


Doubt the Stars Are Fire

by enigmaticblue



Series: Ghosts from the Past [6]
Category: NCIS, Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't Ask Don't Tell, Established Relationship, M/M, No really SO MUCH FLUFF, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2017-08-13
Packaged: 2018-12-14 18:26:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11788890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enigmaticblue/pseuds/enigmaticblue
Summary: Tony has seen some weird shit in his time, but this just takes the cake.





	Doubt the Stars Are Fire

**Author's Note:**

> First, a huge thank you to everyone who has read and left comments and kudos. I wrote the first story on a lark, but the series has taken on a life of its own. Your support means the world to me. Second, for everybody who wanted a story addressing the repeal of DADT and Tony going to Atlantis: this fic is for you. 
> 
> Warnings: mentions sexual assault and coercion, some brief homophobic language, but nothing too graphic.

_“Doubt thou the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move. Doubt truth to be a liar. But never doubt I love.”_ ~William Shakespeare

 

To: tony.dinozzo@ncis.navy.mil

From: john.sheppard1@af.mil

Date: January 1, 2011

Subject: Happy New Year

 

I just wanted to let you know that I leave in a few days, and I’ll be out of touch for a couple of weeks. I’ll send word once I’ve arrived safely. I’ve been keeping an eye on the news, and some of the changes look promising. Maybe we can hit up Pattaya again.

 

-JS

 

To: john.sheppard1@af.mil

From: tony.dinozzo@ncis.navy.mil

Date: January 2, 2011

Subject: Re: Happy New Year

 

Tell your team hello from me when you see them. I have to be in DC in a few weeks, and I’ll swing by and see Dave and his family when I’m in town. I’m not an adequate substitution for his favorite uncle, but I’ll do my best. And yeah, it’s looking promising. I’ll be keeping an eye on deals for Thailand. Take care of yourself,

 

Tony

 

~~~~~

 

Tony is working on a report when his email pings twice in quick succession, and he grins when he sees one is from John.

 

 _I asked General O’Neill to push this through as soon as it was official_ , Tony reads. _It might not make up for the distance between us, but I hope it gives you some peace of mind._

 

He signs it “yours,” and Tony glances at the calendar. He’s lost track of the days, with four teams reporting to him and a major investigation into a terror organization underway. Tony’s chronically short on sleep, and he has _no_ idea what day of the week it is, let alone the date.

 

But it’s September 23, 2011, and DADT officially ended three days ago, ending ten months of waiting. Ten months, where he and John have been even more circumspect than before, knowing that until the UCMJ officially changed, John could still get discharged.

 

Ten months, poised between hope and reality.

 

The second message is from someone with an Air Force email address with an attachment containing a copy of John’s changed will. He’s named Tony as the primary beneficiary for his life insurance, as well as designated him as John’s power of attorney both generally and medically.

 

It’s as official as they can make their relationship without getting married, and Tony’s suddenly breathless. They’ve talked around this, not willing to put anything in writing that could come back to bite John in the ass.

 

There’s a part of Tony that can’t believe it’s finally real, that the next time someone hits on him, he can say, “I’m in a long distance relationship with an Air Force colonel.”

 

He can put John’s picture on his desk. He can show him off. He can be honest.

 

Now that it’s done on John’s end, Tony feels comfortable sending his own email to HR. He’d have done it sooner, but he figured it was up to John to say when and how they came out, if they ever did, at least before they both hit mandatory retirement.

 

The truth is, Tony’s been sitting on this for ten months, ever since the President signed the repeal into law, just hoping to move on it.

 

He sends off the prepared document, knowing that it’s going to be a couple of days before the changes take effect.

 

Then Tony hits reply to John’s email and writes, _That was the best surprise I’ve had in a long time. I hope you’re going to be in town soon. Let me know. Love, Tony_

 

He hasn’t seen John in almost a year, which seriously sucks. It’s too bad that the repeal of DADT doesn’t change the fact that they’re still stuck in a long distance relationship, or the classified nature of John’s assignment.

 

Still, just the opportunity to be _out_ is more than Tony thought they’d get, and he’ll be content with that.

 

He rubs his eyes and goes back to his report, but the words are starting to blur together. Tony knows he needs a solid night’s sleep if he’s going to be any good to anybody, but he has too much to do.

 

“Hey, c’mon, sir, it’s time for all good bosses to be in bed.” Andrew leans over the partition of Tony’s cubicle, dark eyes weary, but still reflecting good humor. “You’re making the rest of us look bad.”

 

Tony smiles. “I’ve got a report to write, Andrew.”

 

“The report can be done tomorrow,” Andrew argues. “You’re running on fumes, we all are, and you _know_ we aren’t leaving before you do.”

 

Tony sighs. “Yeah, I know. All right, let’s wrap it up.”

 

“Awesome!” Kyra says enthusiastically from two desks over. “I have a hot shower and a glass of wine with my name on it. You want to share your good news, sir?”

 

Tony’s given up on getting his team to drop the “sir.” All three of them—Andrew, Kyra, and Jody—are former military, and while they’re friendly, and they have a good time on the job, there’s a certain amount of formality due to Tony’s position. It’s still something he’s getting used to.

 

“What good news?” Tony asks.

 

“Whatever put a smile on your face,” Kyra replies. “I saw that grin from across the room, so if there’s a break in the case, I think we deserve to hear about it.”

 

Tony hesitates, but if he’s going to tell anybody, it should be his team. He knows them all well enough to not worry about their reaction. “My boyfriend just sent me the paperwork making me his power of attorney. He’s Air Force, so it’s a pretty big deal.”

 

Andrew’s eyes widen, and then he grins. “Congratulations! When are we going to meet him?”

 

“No idea,” Tony admits. “He’s on a classified mission on a base at the ass-end of nowhere. I’m hoping he’ll have time off for Christmas this year, but I haven’t heard one way or the other.”

 

“Regardless, that’s great news,” Jody says. She’s the quiet one on the team, but Tony knows she’s dating a Navy lieutenant. They’ve both been discreet, but Tony figures it’s a situation where it takes one to know one. “Do you have a picture?”

 

Tony pulls out his phone and finds the picture Tamara sent last year.

 

“Well done, sir,” Kyra says admiringly. “He’s a stone fox.”

 

“Who’s the kid?” Andrew asks.

 

“John’s nephew, Miles,” Tony replies. “He’s great.”

 

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for a kid person,” Kyra replies.

 

Tony shrugs. “He’s family, and I’ve known John and his brother since we were kids.”

 

It feels good to have that out in the open, for his team to know about John and their relationship.

 

Tony has worked hard to shed some of his masks. John’s acceptance plays a big part in that, but so does the implosion of his last team. He figures if they know who he is and they still don’t like him, then he can replace them. So far, that hasn’t been an issue.

 

He likes his coworkers, and they seem to like him, and in spite of all the doubts Ziva and Tim left him with, Tony’s succeeding here. He’s building something real, and he knows promotion is a possibility.

 

Assuming he doesn’t fuck anything up too badly, of course.

 

Space in Atsugi is at a premium, so Tony’s place isn’t much more than a studio, but he has a comfortable—single—bed and a bathroom, and that’s really all he needs. He works so many hours he barely sees the place.

 

He’s exhausted enough to fall asleep in spite of the open case that’s been giving him fits, and when he wakes up the next morning, John’s email is the first thing that comes to mind.

 

For once, his dreams had been _very_ good, and he figures he has enough time to jerk off before he has to head into the office. He thinks of John in Pattaya, his lean form stretched out on the bed, head thrown back in pleasure. He thinks about how it felt to fuck him, slow and easy, and Tony’s orgasm washes over him.

 

He cleans up quickly, changing into a pair of clean jeans and a button down shirt, wanting easy movement. He’s got a feeling that they might catch a break in the case today.

 

Tony pulls on a jacket over his shoulder holster and checks his messages as he heads out the door. He’s not terribly surprised to find a text from Jody, telling him that they’ve got a bead on one of their terrorists.

 

“Excellent,” Tony mutters. “Well done, Jody.”

 

The entire office is abuzz when Tony enters, and he heads straight for the conference room where they’ve set up their suspect board. “Talk to me, people,” Tony says.

 

Andrew hands Tony a cup of coffee. “Here you go, sir.”

 

“Thanks,” Tony replies. “Jody?”

 

“One of our targets finally slipped up, sir,” she says. “He called his contact on an unsecured line. Behold one James Bakker.”

 

She pulls the information up on the smart screen, and Tony sees an unremarkable middle-aged man. He’s maybe in his early fifties, a little overweight, balding, and neither handsome nor ugly. Tony could walk past him a hundred times and never even know he was there, which is probably the point.

 

“Let me guess,” Tony says. “He’s an accountant.”

 

“Not a bad guess, but incorrect,” Jody replies. “He’s a banker, and we think he’s one of the financial backers.”

 

“What else do we know about him?” Tony asks.

 

“He used to work for the government in some capacity,” Kyra pipes up. “He still retains a pretty high clearance.”

 

Tony frowns. “Which government agency?”

 

“No idea,” Kyra admits. “To find out would have required hacking into areas that I didn’t think I should go.”

 

“Fair enough,” Tony says. “What else?”

 

“We were able to pull deep background on our target,” Kyra says. “The warrant finally came through.”

 

Their target, an American ex-pat living in Tokyo named Roger Moore—and Tony’s jokes sometimes write themselves—is a civilian contractor working IT security. Petty Officer First Class Tasha Buckley, also IT, reported her suspicions that Moore was using his access inappropriately two weeks prior, which kicked off the investigation.

 

Moore covered his tracks well, though. They can trace him back to a few bases where he’d been posted to assist with beefing up security protocols, and there was a suspicious death of a Navy lieutenant at Pearl Harbor while Moore had been there. That death was eventually ruled natural, although the ME couldn’t say precisely what killed him.

 

Tony wishes Ducky had been the ME on that case.

 

“Do we have a suspect tree?” Tony asks.

 

Kyra pulls up a flow chart illustrating what they know so far. At the center is Moore, who has been all over the world at various Naval bases with access to a lot of sensitive and classified information. Above him is Bakker, who’s been making payments to Moore. Tony would bet his next paycheck that Bakker is laundering the money from another source.

 

The problem is that while they know something hinky is going on, as Abby might say, Moore has access to a lot of information. He might be selling it to Bakker, but other than the dead lieutenant, they have nothing but large, odd payments, and proof that Moore accessed information he had no reason to access.

 

“Let’s pull Moore in and sweat him,” Tony finally says. “We’ve got enough to question him.”

 

“Do you want to do the honors, or should I send a couple of MPs?” Andrew asks.

 

Tony shakes his head. “No, I’ll take Jody and grab him. Maybe he’ll slip up.”

 

They head for Moore’s workstation on base. Jody’s stolid presence makes a good foil for Tony’s energy, and he often pairs off with her when interrogating a suspect.

 

“Do we tell him about the information we got from Buckley?” Jody asks.

 

Tony shakes his head. “No, we don’t know whether that will put her in danger.”

 

“You thinking about that dead lieutenant?” Jody asks. “The ME ruled the death natural.”

 

“But inexplicable,” Tony counters. “The best they could come up with was that the victim had an unknown heart condition, but if he did, it went undetected during four years at the Naval Academy, and then three years active duty service. I don’t buy it.”

 

Jody frowns. “Well, if we get some decent information, we might have grounds to exhume the body.”

 

Tony winces. “Tough on the family, but yeah, if that’s what needs to happen, that’s what we’ll do.”

 

Moore’s workstation is one of a series of cubicles, although the office is open plan. Later, Tony will wish he’d thought to station MPs at every entrance, but in his own defense, he’s never had a suspect _disappear_ before.

 

Moore looks up as Tony and Jody approach, and he’s up and out of his chair immediately, running for the door.

 

“Go around,” Tony orders, running after Moore.

 

The other exit lets out in a hallway that eventually leads to the front exit. If Jody goes back the way they came in, she can cut him off while Tony pursues Moore.

 

And really, Moore’s flight is a pretty good indicator of guilt.

 

Moore doesn’t turn towards the entrance, though. Instead, he goes deeper into the building. Tony sees him pull out a cell phone, and hears him say, “Now, now, now!”

 

Then Moore is just…gone.

 

“What the fuck?” Tony says, casting about wildly. Suspects don’t just disappear into thin air. It _doesn’t happen_.

 

Jody jogs up to him a few seconds later. “Where’s Moore?”

 

“He disappeared,” Tony replies. “ _Literally_.”

 

Jody frowns. “Are you sure?”

 

“He was standing right there, talking on his cell phone, and then he disappeared into thin air,” Tony replies, running a hand through his hair. “I know what I saw, but it’s just not possible!”

 

Jody looks around. “Okay, I believe you, but there has to be a reasonable explanation. Maybe he had a trick entrance or something?”

 

Tony knows that’s not what happened, but he looks anyway. There’s no entrance, no exit, no secret tunnel or airshaft. There’s just an empty hallway.

 

“Are you sure he was here?” Jody asks. “Because suspects don’t just disappear, sir.”

 

“Tell me about it,” Tony mutters. “I don’t know what to tell you, but he was here, and then he was gone. Shit, I have no idea what I’m going to put in my report.”

 

Jody shrugs. “Put down what you saw. Maybe there’s some new technology we don’t know about.”

 

“There had better be,” Tony says. “Otherwise, I’m never going to live this down.”

 

~~~~~

 

The data bursts come like clockwork these days, Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, which means it’s easier to stay in touch with the people back on earth, as well as keep up on news.

 

That means the day after the repeal of DADT is official, John can send his amended paperwork through to the SGC.

 

O’Neill reached out a few months back, unofficially, stating that if John wanted to make any changes to his beneficiaries, O’Neill would personally see that it moved quickly.

 

John has no idea why O’Neill has taken such an interest in his relationship with Tony, but he’s not going to complain. The old saying about gift horses comes to mind.

 

Rodney bustles into John’s office. “So, is it official? Can I congratulate you now?”

 

John grins. “Yeah, it’s official, or as official as it gets until we tie the knot.”

 

“Are you?” Rodney asks, his eyes widening.

 

John shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s not really something we were willing to talk about over email.”

 

“Are you going to ask him?” Rodney asks.

 

“Not over email,” John replies. “And I don’t see how I can marry him when I can’t even tell him where I’m stationed, McKay.”

 

Rodney’s mouth takes on an unhappy slant, and John is honestly touched that Rodney cares so much about his happiness. “Maybe you can get DiNozzo read in,” Rodney suggests. “He has a fairly high security clearance. An exception might be made if you married him.”

 

“And that still leaves us separated for months at a time, if not years,” John replies. “That’s not fair to him.”

 

“It’s not fair to _you_ either,” Rodney argues. “Look, DiNozzo is a big boy. You’re due for leave. Go home for Christmas, pop the question, tie the knot, and figure it out.”

 

John shakes his head. “Rodney, it’s not that simple.”

 

“How is it difficult?” Rodney asks. “You want to marry him. He seems to want to be with you. John, I know how much you love Atlantis, because I love it just as much, but chances are good that you won’t be here forever.”

 

John knows what Rodney is saying, and he’s not wrong. Eventually, John will either be promoted or retired, and he has no idea if they’ll let him stay on Atlantis in either situation. He will probably have to build a life away from Atlantis, and he can’t think of anybody else he’d like to spend the rest of his life with.

 

He just doesn’t know how to balance a life with Tony and his duty.

 

“It’s enough that we can be open,” John insists. “That’s more than we had before.”

 

Rodney shakes his head. “Take the chance to be happy. Let DiNozzo make his own decision.”

 

Rodney’s right, but John isn’t sure how to make it work. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

 

“No, you won’t,” Rodney replies, almost fondly. “But at least think about putting in for leave. You’re in the clear, John. You should take advantage of it.”

 

“I’ll think about it,” John promises. “Anything else?”

 

Rodney shakes his head. “No, I just wanted to offer my congratulations.”

 

“Thanks,” John says. “I mean it.”

 

“You deserve to be happy,” Rodney says sincerely.

 

John smiles. “I am happy.”

 

“Okay, but _happier_ ,” Rodney argues.

 

John leans back in his seat. “I’m as happy as I’m going to get right now. This is my life, McKay. I just have to live with it.”

 

Rodney doesn’t look content with that explanation, but John doesn’t know what to tell him. In a way, it would be easier if Rodney didn’t know; he wouldn’t nag. On the other hand, John doesn’t want to know what Rodney’s reaction would be if he found out about John’s orientation and relationship after he changed his paperwork.

 

“I should get back to work,” John says. “I have a few reports to get through.”

 

Rodney gets to his feet. “Yeah, yeah. I have plenty to do as well. Look, think about what I said, okay?”

 

The truth is that John’s done nothing _but_ think about it. He’s known for a while that if DADT were repealed, the brass would move on it and move fast. John got the briefing that made it clear the military isn’t going to be wishy-washy about it. They’re putting leave policies in place to allow service members to travel to a state where they can get married if desired. Hate crimes are not going to be tolerated—at least in theory. Military benefits will apply to all spouses, including same-sex pairings.

 

Of course, there could still be ramifications for him. He might not advance in rank. Maybe the SGC will find someone else with the gene to run Atlantis, someone who’s straight.

 

And maybe there will be ramifications for Tony’s career as well, but John feels nothing but relief that they’re able to be open. For the first time in his life, John can be honest.

 

A knock on his door has John looking up, and he smiles. “Major Teldy, what can I do for you?”

 

“I’d like to request leave, sir,” she replies, sitting down when John waves his hand at the chairs in front of his desk. “Back to earth.”

 

John leans back in his chair. “I know you took leave a couple of months ago, Major. I’m not saying no, I’m just trying to understand.”

 

“I promised my girlfriend I’d marry her just as soon as it was possible,” Teldy replies evenly, her gaze steady. “She’s at Area 51.”

 

John nods. “Congratulations, Major. I’ll put the request in myself and make sure you can go back to earth at the next opportunity, since you were the first to ask.”

 

Teldy’s responding smile is the most genuine he’s seen. “Thank you, sir. I wasn’t sure—thank you.”

 

“I understand,” John replies. “Better than you know.”

 

Teldy’s gaze is sharp. “I see. Congratulations to you, too, sir.”

 

“It’s a good day for all of us,” John replies.

 

She nods. “I’ll let you get back to work.”

 

John pulls up the leave calendar. He doesn’t think Christmas is a possibility, but maybe he can take leave for New Year’s.

 

Maybe it’s time to turn over a new leaf.

 

~~~~~

 

To: john.sheppard1@af.mil

From: tony.dinozzo@ncis.navy.mil

Date: November 3, 2011

Subject: Anything you want me to do?

 

I’m going to be back in D.C. for some meetings. Is there anything you want me to do while I’m there? Anything you want me to give Miles?

 

To: tony.dinozzo@ncis.navy.mil

From: john.sheppard1@af.mil

Date: November 5, 2011

Subject: Re: Anything you want me to do?

 

I heard Miles still loves anything that flies. Drop a toy plane or helicopter or something by for me? And if you get any pictures, I’d love that. How’s the case? Did you finally wrap it up?

 

From: tony.dinozzo@ncis.navy.mil

To: john.sheppard1@af.mil

Date: November 6, 2011

Subject: Re: Re: Anything you want me to do?

 

Dead end. Our subject disappeared without a trace right in front of me, and he’s gone off the grid. The other leads dried up, and we had to declare it a cold case, which blemishes my otherwise excellent record.

 

From: john.sheppard1@af.mil

To: tony.dinozzo@ncis.navy.mil

Date: November 8, 2011

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Anything you want me to do?

 

That sucks, man. I’m sorry to hear it.

 

What are you doing for New Year’s? I thought maybe we could get together. If you can’t make it back to the States, I could come to you.

 

From: tony.dinozzo@ncis.navy.mil

To: john.sheppard1@af.mil

Date: November 9, 2011

Subject: YES

 

I would love that. We might need to get a hotel room since my bed is only big enough for one, but I would love to see you.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony hunkers down behind a crate of supplies cursing his rotten luck. He’s back in D.C. for a series of meetings, and who does he see but Roger Moore, their vanishing suspected spy, standing in line for a cup of coffee at Starbucks.

 

In retrospect, it’s not terribly surprising. Tony’s staying at a hotel in Crystal City, which is what NCIS is willing to pay for. Gibbs extended an invitation to use his guest room, but Tony didn’t want to put him out.

 

There are plenty of longer stay hotels in the area, some of them cheap and perfect for lying low, and with easy access to locations with a ton of classified information. Tony doesn’t want to give Moore the chance to disappear again, so he abandons plans to get coffee and follows Moore out of Starbucks.

 

He wishes he had a ball cap, or another way to disguise himself, but all he has is his sunglasses. Tony puts them on and tries to blend into the crowd of pedestrians on the street.

 

Moore descends the stairs for the nearby Metro stop, and Tony shoves his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders as though against the cold. He shortens his stride slightly, affecting a limp, stepping onto the train car after Moore, but staying at the other end.

 

They ride the Yellow Line to the Chinatown station, then Moore quickly switches to the Red Line, getting out at Judiciary Square. There are still plenty of tourists around, even in early November, and Tony puts every trick he knows into practice as he stalks his prey.

 

When Moore disappears into what looks like an empty office space in an industrial area off 3rd Street, Tony sends a quick text to Gibbs.

 

No way is he letting Moore slip through his fingers again.

 

Tony sneaks into the building after Moore enters, moving quickly and quietly. He doesn’t have a lot of options here. Gibbs shouldn’t be too far away, unless he’s out on a case, and even then he’ll call backup for Tony.

 

Tony just needs to figure out what Moore is up to, and who he’s conspiring with, and then everything will be fine.

 

He hopes.

 

Following the voices he hears, Tony sneaks through the building. “No, I wasn’t followed,” someone says, and Tony’s pretty sure it’s Moore.

 

He doesn’t dare peek around the corner, for fear that they’ll see him, but he can hear their voices echo in what sounds like a large, empty office. Tony’s in an empty hallway, but he can see part of the room, and there are about a dozen crates stacked not too far from him. He figures they might offer him some shelter if he needs to confront them.

 

“Don’t be an idiot, we’re in the middle of a ton of federal agents,” an unfamiliar voice replies. “You’re wanted for questioning.”

 

“I wasn’t followed!” Moore snaps. “You think I’m new?”

 

“I think you were made in Atsugi by a little girl and nearly got caught by a clueless fed,” the other voice replies. “So, yeah, maybe you’re new.”

 

Tony edges a little closer, careful not to make any noise.

 

“Don’t blame me,” Moore grumbles. “ _You_ were the one who wanted classified information I had no legitimate reason to access.”

 

“We hired you because we thought you wouldn’t get caught,” the other man says. “And we needed to see where the holes were in their defenses. The South China Sea might be international waters, but we didn’t want to deal with the presence of troops.”

 

Tony’s brain is working over the problem feverishly. What the hell could they be talking about? Why would they need to know about American troop movements in the South China Sea, if not to plan some kind of terrorist attack?

 

“You got the information you needed, didn’t you?” Moore asks. “And it’s not like they suspect the truth. They think I’m just a run-of-the-mill terrorist; they have no idea I’m a patriot.”

 

“You keep telling yourself that,” the other man says with a snort. “Look, we need you to decrypt some files. Our guys haven’t been able to make heads or tails of it.”

 

Tony can hear the shrug in Moore’s voice. “Yeah, sure. No problem. Give me a few days.”

 

“You’ve got two,” the other man says.

 

Tony realizes that the party is breaking up, and if he doesn’t move now, he’s going to lose Moore, and the guy he’s meeting, who’s also apparently a bad guy.

 

He draws his service weapon and moves forward, knowing that he should definitely have backup, but a quick glance at his phone shows a text from Gibbs that reads _fifteen minutes_ , and that had been five minutes ago.

 

Tony doesn’t have ten minutes, which means he doesn’t have a choice.

 

He’s certain that he’s not making any noise, but as he rounds the corner, both Moore and the other man have weapons trained on him. Moore is holding a 9 mil, but Tony doesn’t recognize the other weapon. It looks like something out of a science-fiction film, like it’s fake, but Tony hasn’t lived this long by taking stupid chances, so he’s going to assume that it’s real and could do him real damage.

 

“I thought you said you weren’t followed,” the man snaps, his weapon on Tony.

 

“I didn’t think I was!” Moore shouts, and Tony notices that his hands are shaking slightly. Ruthless criminal, he is not.

 

Tony holds his weapon on the stranger, because _his_ hands aren’t shaking, and he doesn’t know what kind of damage the thing in his hand can do. “Federal agent,” Tony says. “Put down your weapons.”

 

“Oh, I don’t think so, _federal agent_ ,” the stranger replies, and his eyes flash gold. “It’s time for you to disappear.”

 

Tony squeezes off a shot as he dives to one side, hitting the stranger in the shoulder, although the gunshot doesn’t faze him. Moore shoots wildly, and Tony can hear the bullets hit the wall behind him as he scrambles to take cover behind the crates.

 

He hears a whining sound and one of the crates next to him disappears. “Oh, this is not _on_ ,” he mutters.

 

Tony has seen some weird shit in his time, but this just takes the cake. He’s got vanishing suspects, guys with glowing golden eyes, and now disintegrating crates? “The fuck am I supposed to do with this?” he whispers.

 

A crate on the other side of his hiding spot disappears, and Tony realizes that the weapon could just as easily disappear _him_.

 

For the first time, he realizes he’s definitely not going to make it out of this alive.

 

And then he blinks, because O’Neill is standing in front of him, holding the same kind of weapon, and there are at least six guys in full tactical gear ranged around the open floor of the office.

 

“General O’Neill?” Tony says incredulously. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Saving your ass,” O’Neill replies. “Take them into custody. Command, two for transport.”

 

Between one heartbeat and the next, Tony goes from an office space in Washington D.C. to—

 

“Is this a spaceship?” Tony asks incredulously, scrambling to his feet.

 

“Welcome aboard the _Deadalus_ , Agent DiNozzo,” O’Neill replies. “Standby for transport to Cheyenne Mountain.”

 

Tony’s looking around as the bridge disappears, and then he’s in some kind of conference room with an American flag in one corner and a long table in the center of the room. “What the—” He stops, completely speechless, his thoughts whirling too fast for words.

 

“Sorry, we need to have you sign a nondisclosure agreement before I can offer any explanations,” O’Neill says. “But first—”

 

Tony’s head is still spinning when O’Neill throws something at him, and only his excellent reflexes allow him to catch it. It looks like a rock, but it lights up when he touches it, projecting the image of a floating city that looks like something out of a fantasy novel with thin spires reaching to the sky.

 

More than that, though, there’s a buzz in the back of his mind, a weird echo, and Tony just stares. “What is this?”

 

“I can’t tell you unless you sign a nondisclosure agreement,” O’Neill replies. “That said, you have two choices. There’s an NDA where you sign it, promising not to tell anyone anything about what you just saw, and we transport you back to D.C., and that’s the end of it.”

 

Tony frowns. “Why would I do that?”

 

“Because what you’re about to hear might not be comfortable for you, and there are things that could piss you off,” O’Neill says. “And sometimes ignorance is easier.”

 

Tony looks at the floating city. “Does this have anything to do with John?”

 

O’Neill nods. “It does. That’s part of what might piss you off.”

 

“Is he alive?”

 

“He is,” O’Neill says.

 

“What’s my second option?” Tony asks.

 

“You sign the other NDA, get read into the program, and then maybe I can pull some strings,” O’Neill replies. “Get you to see Sheppard.”

 

Tony hesitates. “Are you manipulating me?”

 

“Is it working?” O’Neill counters.

 

Tony runs a hand through his hair. A chance to see John, to know what’s going on, for there to be no more secrets between them? Whatever the risks might be, Tony knows he has to take this opportunity.

 

“Yeah, okay,” Tony replies. “I want to know everything.”

 

O’Neill’s expression is almost unbearably smug. “Good. I’ll bring in the NDA.”

 

He calls someone named Davis over the intercom, and an Air Force lieutenant colonel about Tony’s age enters holding thick sheaf of papers. “Here you go, sir,” he says cheerfully. “I can send in an attorney if you like.”

 

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary unless DiNozzo insists,” O’Neill replies. “You want to read through the whole thing, or should I summarize it?”

 

Tony knows that he _should_ read through it, and he probably should ask for an attorney. If he’s going to be smart about this, he should ask for time to read it, take a couple of days to think about it, and then dive in headfirst.

 

He’s not going to be smart about this, though. He hasn’t been smart about it since he first kissed John, since he fell head over heels, not that he planned on it.

 

“Summarize it for me,” Tony replies.

 

“If you talk about it, Gitmo is going to look like a cakewalk,” O’Neill says bluntly. “No one outside of the SGC program can know what you know, not anyone.”

 

Tony nods. “The only person I might want to tell is John, and that’s obviously not an issue.”

 

Gibbs would be Tony’s second choice, but he’s not about to mention that to O’Neill, and he and Gibbs aren’t as close as they’d been once.

 

O’Neill inclines his head. “Fair enough. Let me get Carter and Jackson in here. They explain it better than I do anyway.”

 

~~~~~

 

John is on a mission when the next data burst comes through, although it’s a mission that goes according to plan for a change. It’s a basic meet and greet to see if an alliance can and should be made, and the people are friendly and charming and don’t ask for any freaky ceremonies or marriage rites or sacrifices.

 

They sit down, drink some tea, eat a few sweet cakes, and a tentative alliance forms.

 

It’s one of the easiest missions that John has had in Pegasus, which is why he’s certain that the other shoe is going to drop, and why he’s not surprised at the email that’s waiting for him when he gets back to Atlantis.

 

Well, two emails, one from Tony, and the other from O’Neill.

 

Feeling a sense of trepidation, John opens O’Neill’s message first. “You’ll thank me after the next _Daedalus_ run.”

 

John blinks at that cryptic statement, because it doesn’t make a lot of sense. What is O’Neill sending him, a pool table?

 

He opens Tony’s email next.

 

_Hey, so, funny story! I’m typing this from a “guest room” inside the SGC because aliens. Remember that disappearing terrorist? Turns out he’s a Trust operative, or a stooge, not sure on that yet, and I caught a Gould (sp?) without meaning to, and O’Neill had to save my ass. O’Neill is telling NCIS that I’ve been instrumental in taking down a huge terror cell, and they need to borrow me for a few weeks, and I think he might want something. No idea what it is, though._

_Also, saw your city. No wonder you wanted to go back. It’s a gorgeous place, John._

_Love,_

_Tony_

 

John runs a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of that message. Obviously, Tony isn’t telling him everything, but he clearly knows about the Stargate program and aliens and Goa’uld and Atlantis. He’s safe inside the SGC at least, but that seems to indicate something went wrong before.

 

But O’Neill is apparently on top of things, so that’s good. John trusts O’Neill as much as he trusts any of his superior officers, and more than he’s trusted any of them in the past.

 

Still, there’s a part of John that wants to dial up the SGC, step through the gate, and find out exactly what’s happening with Tony, consequences be damned.

 

He wants to, but he won’t.

 

John tries to focus; he has leave schedules to finalize, since the _Daedalus_ will arrive in a couple of weeks. He has mission rotations and reports to review, requisitions to consider, all of it.

 

He has an insane amount of work to do, and yet his mind is millions of light years away, and John finally powers down his computer. He’s not going to accomplish anything by sitting here and staring at the screen while thinking about Tony.

 

Deciding that he could stand to work out, John heads to the gym. There are a couple of Marines in the ring sparring, and John stands off to the side, waiting for his opportunity to jump in.

 

Hawkins puts the other man down, a new transfer, Lance Corporal Yang, and John calls, “Think you can take me, Hawkins?”

 

“I’d be happy to, sir,” Hawkins replies with a cocky grin.

 

John smirks. “I guess we’ll see.”

 

Hawkins does pose something of a challenge, and might have done some damage if John hadn’t been training with Ronon and Teyla both. Hawkins gets in a lucky strike to John’s right cheek, but he moves back enough so that it’s a glancing blow.

 

John moves in, using Hawkins’ long reach against him, ducking under a punch to get in a hit to Hawkins’ solar plexus, then an uppercut to his jaw. Hawkins goes down hard, and John steps back, waiting to see if he’ll get up.

 

Hawkins clambers to his feet. “Shit, sir, that was a good one.”

 

“You done, or you want to continue?” John asks.

 

Hawkins shakes his head. “No, sir. I think I’m going to tap out.”

 

“Anybody else?” John asks.

 

There’s a general shuffling of feet, and no one seems inclined to step forward, and then Ronon shoulders his way through the crowd, his expression clearly stating that he thinks the others have failed in their duty.

 

Ronon always presents a challenge, and John knows he’s going to need to focus on the fight if he doesn’t want Ronon cleaning his clock.

 

And maybe there are days when John welcomes the pain, but today he just wants to get out of his own head for a while.

 

He and Ronon circle each other warily, and John feels his breathing slow, and he feints right and follows it up with a left hook, which Ronon easily blocks. After that, it’s a flurry of punches and kicks with both of them getting in a few good strikes but blocking the majority of them.

 

They break apart by mutual accord, then John moves in again. Ronon manages to clip John over his left eyebrow, and John has to blink both blood and sweat out of his eye.

 

Ronon bares his teeth in a fierce grin, and John moves in faster. He gets in a good hit to Ronon’s side with his knee, then slips under Ronon’s fist to deliver a punch to his jaw.

 

Ronon falls back, and John gives him space, knowing that this round is his. Ronon grunts an acknowledgment, and then moves in again.

 

The rest of the fight is just as brutal and ends in a draw when even Ronon has broken a sweat and is bleeding from a split lip.

 

“Good fight,” Ronon says. “You feel better?”

 

John accepts a towel from one of the Marines. “Yeah, thanks.”

 

“Bad news from home?” Ronon asks. “Mission went well.”

 

John hesitates. “No, not bad news. Turns out that Tony got read into the program after stumbling across a Trust operative, and now O’Neill has him stashed at Cheyenne Mountain.”

 

“He’s safe there,” Ronon offers.

 

“Probably,” John replies. “He has a dangerous job, and he’s fully capable of taking care of himself, but that’s against ordinary bad guys. And hell, he’s been shot, blown up, infected with the plague—who knows what kind of trouble he’ll get himself into?”

 

Ronon gives him a look. “The same kind of trouble you do?”

 

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” John mutters.

 

Ronon claps him on the shoulder. “I like DiNozzo. He gives you a tie to the living.”

 

John sighs. “I guess he does at that. I’m going to grab a shower. See you at dinner?”

 

“That’s the plan,” Ronon replies.

 

He feels a little better after the sparring session and a shower, and he heads to the cafeteria to meet up with his team. Teyla, Ronon, and Rodney are there already, and John grabs a tray and sits down at the table with them.

 

“Ronon told us that DiNozzo got roped into the SGC somehow,” Rodney says immediately. “Is he okay?”

 

“Seemed to be,” John replies. “It’s not like I could really tell over email.”

 

“Do you need anything from us, John?” Teyla asks.

 

He shakes his head. “No, I’m good for right now. I just—need to figure out what’s going on, and I can’t do that from here.”

 

“Why don’t you go back on the next _Daedalus_ run?” Rodney asks.

 

John thinks about O’Neill’s message and shakes his head. “Maybe on the one after. I already promised Teldy she could go back.”

 

He certainly wouldn’t put it past O’Neill to giftwrap Tony and deliver him to John’s doorstep, but that seems a little too much to hope for. He’s still not putting himself on the leave rotation until he knows exactly what O’Neill meant by his message.

 

Maybe it’s a pool table, and John will go home after New Year’s. That’s the deal he’s struck with himself.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony’s going a little stir-crazy by the time O’Neill calls him in for a meeting. He’s been at the base for three days, after O’Neill and General Landry politely insisted on protective custody.

 

If they’d been LEOs, Tony would have been able to refuse. Since he’s on an Air Force base, without any way to leave, he hadn’t felt like he had an option.

 

And really, everybody has been nice, and Tony probably needed a few days to wrap his brain around the whole _aliens are real and John’s in another galaxy_ thing, but still. He wants to go _home_.

 

Not that he’s even sure where home is these days. Atsugi is a job, and D.C. is the place he used to live.

 

At least they let him call Gibbs to offer an update on the situation with Moore, and he emails John to get the initial _the hell_ out of the way. He has no doubt that those communications were monitored, but he’d been able to make contact.

 

Tony sits down across from Landry and O’Neill in a small conference room he hasn’t seen yet, feeling no small amount of trepidation. “I did sign the nondisclosure agreement,” Tony says. “I’m not going to tell anybody anything.”

 

“That’s not really our concern,” Landry replies. “We have no intention of holding you here indefinitely. It’s just that we have a small problem.”

 

Tony nods. “Okay, is there something I can do for you to speed up the process?”

 

“We don’t have many gene carriers with a strong expression like yours,” O’Neill admits frankly. “It’s one of the reasons we’ve kept Sheppard in Pegasus. We need him on Atlantis.”

 

Tony still isn’t sure where the problem lies. “I’m an NCIS agent; I’m not military.”

 

“We’d like to know that we could call on you in case of an emergency,” O’Neill says smoothly.

 

Tony shifts. “I’m beginning to get some weird superhero vibes here. I’m not one of Earth’s mightiest heroes or whatever.”

 

“We’d like to see how you do in the chair,” Landry says.

 

Tony blinks. “Should I know what that means?”

 

“We’ll send you to visit John if you agree,” O’Neill offers.

 

“What’s the risk here?” Tony asks. “Because if I die, John’s going to be pissed. He may never forgive me.”

 

“No one has died yet,” O’Neill replies.

 

That—really doesn’t tell Tony anything, and he frowns.

 

“John has sat in the chair on multiple occasions, and he’s fine,” O’Neill adds.

 

Tony still isn’t sure what that means, but he has to admit that the opportunity to visit John is too tempting to pass up. He’s seen a projection of the city, and he wants to see it in person. “I’ll do it.”

 

O’Neill grins broadly and rubs his hands together. “Great. I’ll let the _Daedalus_ know you’re ready to beam over. How long do you need to pack?”

 

Tony frowns. “How long am I packing for?”

 

“Think at least a couple of weeks,” O’Neill replies. “And I’ll order Sheppard back on the next run. I’ve heard gay marriage is legal in a few states now.”

 

Tony raises his eyebrows. “Seriously, sir?”

 

“There are a lot of benefits to being married, DiNozzo,” O’Neill replies. “Just think about it.”

 

Tony wonders for the nth time why O’Neill is so invested in their relationship, but he figures it’s for the same reason Gibbs insisted on giving them time together while John was in town. He doesn’t know much about O’Neill’s background, but he suspects there’s some trauma there.

 

“I’ll think about it,” Tony promises. “And I’ll need a couple of hours, but no more than that.”

 

“Good, then let’s get going,” O’Neill says.

 

Landry gives O’Neill a look. “He’ll need a warmer coat than that.”

 

“We’ll get one from the stores in Antarctica.”

 

Tony looks from O’Neill to Landry and back again. “Wait, what?”

 

He doesn’t get to see much of Antarctica. O’Neill calls ahead, so there’s an airman waiting for them with a heavy parka for Tony. “Wouldn’t want you to catch cold,” O’Neill comments placidly.

 

Tony shakes his head but shrugs the coat on. “Did someone tell you about the plague?”

 

“It might have come up,” O’Neill replies mildly.

 

Tony sighs but doesn’t say anything. The Stargate program is top secret; getting access to Tony’s personnel file would be child’s play.

 

The other personnel give Tony curious stares as they make their way through the base, which isn’t as cold as he’d expected, although he’s grateful for the coat. He half-expects everything to be made of ice, but it looks like a real base with boring, industrial walls and floors, much like the base under Cheyenne Mountain.

 

“You guys really know how to spruce a place up,” Tony quips.

 

O’Neill shrugs. “It’s a theme.”

 

The room they stop in is large, the walls filigreed with a geometric pattern, and there is, indeed, a large chair in the middle of the room. It glows with a faint blue light, and Tony takes a couple of steps towards it.

 

“Go ahead,” O’Neill says. “It calls to me, too.”

 

“Is that what it is?” Tony asks, reaching out to run a hand along the arm of the chair. “Is this it?”

 

“That’s the chair,” O’Neill replies. “Don’t shoot anything. I’ve made sure the skies are clear, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t set off any fireworks.”

 

Tony nods. “Should I sit?”

 

“That’s why we’re here,” O’Neill replies, his tone curiously gentle.

 

He sits, and he feels the chair recline as he sinks his fingers into the strange, blue gel in the armrests. It’s like being in a theater seat, one of those really nice, reclining ones, but different.

 

Different, because there’s the echo of a presence in his head, much like he’d felt when he touched that weird projection-thing, but stronger. Tony sinks back in the chair and relaxes into the feeling, and he knows without being told that there are missiles of some kind waiting to be deployed.

 

“Think about the skies above us,” O’Neill says.

 

Tony can’t help but think of it as soon as O’Neill says that, and a holographic projection comes up over his head. There’s nothing, but then Tony thinks bigger, thinks about the southern hemisphere, and the view widens.

 

There are two planes north of them, and Tony suddenly knows that he could target them with a thought, bringing them down with the missiles that lay dormant under the base, and he abruptly shuts it down.

 

“God, what a rush,” Tony murmurs as he stands up.

 

“What happened?” O’Neill asks.

 

Tony scrubs a hand over his face. “I suddenly got the feeling that I could shoot down any plane within spitting distance, and I didn’t want to risk it.”

 

O’Neill smirks. “Felt good, did it?”

 

Tony doesn’t want to admit that he’s kind of turned on right now. “You could say that. Is Atlantis anything like that?”

 

“I wouldn’t know,” O’Neill replies. “Never been. You’ll have to let me know.”

 

Tony looks at the chair. “No wonder John couldn’t wait to go back.”

 

“Sheppard wasn’t nearly as anxious to go back this last time,” O’Neill offers. “I expected him to stow away on the _Deadalus_ , but instead, he didn’t start bugging me until after you’d gone to Japan.”

 

Tony feels a warm glow at that, but he has to ask, “Why do you care so much?”

 

“I know what it’s like to want someone you can’t have, and to try to make it work regardless,” O’Neill replies. “Plus, Sheppard saved my life. I owe him.”

 

“Thanks,” Tony says. “For all of this.”

 

O’Neill smiles. “My pleasure.”

 

~~~~~

 

“What the hell has gotten into you?” Rodney asks, and John knows that it’s a miracle that this is the first time someone has asked him that, and that he’s been holding it together as well as he has.

 

They’re three days into the _Daedalus_ run, more than a week away from its arrival, and all he can think about is Tony.

 

Tony, whose last email said only, “I’m coming to you this time. Love you.”

 

Thankfully, John has had a quiet few days without any missions, and he’s been getting caught up on a few things, like mission reports and paperwork and all of the things he knows he won’t want to do once Tony is actually on Atlantis.

 

That doesn’t mean he hasn’t been distracted and out of sorts.

 

When John doesn’t immediately reply, uncertain of how to broach the topic of Tony’s visit— _Tony on his turf, Tony on Atlantis_ —Teyla adds, “You have not been yourself the last few days, John.”

 

She’s keeping a careful eye on Torren John, who’s careening through the cafeteria with a Marine on his heels. Lieutenant Reyes has nephews, and he’s one of those on Atlantis who has a real gift with kids. They’ve had a couple of missions where that skill had come in handy, but more often he could be found volunteering for babysitting duty for Torren.

 

John can hear shrieks of laughter as Reyes catches up to Torren and grabs him around the waist, gently tossing him into the air, and John wonders what it would be like to have Miles here, to take Miles up in a Jumper.

 

Then again, he’s not sure he’d ever want that, because it would be too dangerous.

 

“John?” Teyla prompts, and John realizes he’s gotten lost in his own thoughts again.

 

He shakes it off. “Yeah, sorry. I just—Tony’s coming on the next _Daedalus_ run.”

 

“Wait, what?” Rodney demands. “Why?”

 

John shrugs. “He has the gene, he stumbled on a Trust plot, and O’Neill is weirdly invested in our relationship.”

 

Ronon raises his eyebrows but remains silent, but Teyla beams brightly. “Tony is coming here! That’s wonderful news, John.”

 

“We’ll see,” John replies. “Atlantis isn’t exactly the safest spot in the galaxy.”

 

“Being a federal agent isn’t the safest _job_ in the galaxy,” Rodney snaps. “There are probably more terrorists than there are space vampires, and didn’t you say he’d already contracted the plague? Do you _know_ how rare that is? We should probably be worried about him bringing trouble here.”

 

John can’t help the smile that forms. “Yeah, I’ll make sure to keep him away from the Wraith.”

 

“I doubt even DiNozzo could make friends with the Wraith,” Ronon comments.

 

John frowns darkly. “I wouldn’t put it past him. He could talk all of them into submission.”

 

“ _I_ could do that if talking was all that’s required,” Rodney replies.

 

“I know you could, buddy,” John replies, leaving Rodney to determine whether or not that was an insult.

 

Rodney huffs. “I know what you’re saying, and I think you should consider getting married here.”

 

“Is it legal?” John counters.

 

Rodney shrugs. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

 

“You have to have a license from a state, and I doubt Tony picked one of those up on his way,” John replies.

 

“He was right next door to Massachusetts,” Rodney defends himself. “You never know.”

 

John smiles. “At the very least, I can pop the question here. I suppose it’s a good thing that engagement rings aren’t traditional for men.”

 

“Do you need a ring, John?” Teyla asks. “One of the Athosians makes jewelry.”

 

John feels a little alarmed at how quickly this is all moving. “Uh, yeah, sure. I guess we could talk about it.”

 

“I will contact her,” Teyla says. “I’m sure she’ll be able to accommodate you.”

 

John nods. “Yeah, great. Thanks.”

 

Suddenly, he realizes that he’s locked into asking Tony to marry him, no matter how receptive John judges him to be—assuming that John reads the signs correctly, which he’s not sure he will.

 

And he wants to marry Tony, but having the reality staring him in the face makes him a little nervous.

 

“He’s going to say yes,” Rodney blurts out. “If you’re worried about that, you shouldn’t be.”

 

“I’m not worried about him saying yes,” John replies defensively. “We’re practically married anyway, with all the paperwork we filed.”

 

“You are not a man who is used to getting the things you want most,” Teyla observes.

 

John winces at the truth of that statement.

 

“Enjoy him being here,” Ronon says out of the blue. “Enjoy what you have while you can.”

 

John knows what those words mean coming from Ronon, the guy who lost everything. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

 

“Are you going to be okay?” Teyla asks.

 

John nods. “Yeah, I’m sorry. I’ll get my head back in the game.”

 

Ronon claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. You put your head in your ass, and I’ll pull it out.”

 

John laughs. “Yeah, you always do.”

 

~~~~~

 

When Tony first gets beamed up to the _Daedalus_ , he keeps his cool, although he’s internally freaking out. He remembers that early conversation with John, when they’d been picking out movies and he admitted that he hadn’t seen a lot of science fiction. John had that look on his face, like he was suppressing laughter, and he now understands why.

 

Between the teleporter and being on an _actual space ship_ , Tony really isn’t sure how he feels. He hadn’t really had time for it to sink in the first time he’d been on board, and now he’s going to spend two weeks _in space_.

 

At least he’d had time to pack and bid farewell to his team in Atsugi. They’ve been told that he broke open the terrorist cell and has been pulled into a classified mission as a result. Tony is actually sort of grateful for the NDA because he has no idea how to explain any of this.

 

“Agent DiNozzo, I’m Colonel Stephen Caldwell,” a large, bald man says, holding out a hand for Tony to shake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Colonel,” Tony replies. “Call me Tony.”

 

“I’m Stephen,” he replies. “I’ll have an airman show you to your quarters, and she’ll let you know the safe areas on board where you can go. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t go into areas you’re not authorized to be.”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Tony replies. “I never like it when civilians cross the crime scene tape. I’ll do you the same courtesy.”

 

Caldwell nods. “Thanks. I hope you brought plenty of reading material. There’s not much going on if you’re not on duty. You’re welcome to use the gym if you’d like, and there are a couple of observation areas you’re welcome to use.”

 

“I’m sure I’ll find a way to occupy myself,” Tony replies. “Without getting into trouble.”

 

“I appreciate your best efforts on that front,” Caldwell says dryly. “From what General O’Neill has said, that might be a tall order.”

 

Tony clutches his chest. “I’m wounded.”

 

“No one just stumbles on a Trust plot,” Caldwell replies.

 

“Well, to be fair, I was investigating a terrorism plot at the time,” Tony points out. “And I’m pretty good at my job.”

 

Caldwell cracks a smile. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

 

“Why’s that?” Tony asks.

 

“You and Sheppard? Worst kept secret in the SGC,” Caldwell replies. “Airman Lee, please show Agent DiNozzo to his quarters and give him the nickel tour.”

 

The young woman snaps to attention. “Yes, sir! Right this way, sir.”

 

Tony doesn’t try to convince her to call him anything else, and he’s grateful for the time spent working for NCIS and his familiarity with military personnel. He knows what to expect from the people he encounters on the _Daedalus_ , and that’s helpful.

 

He doesn’t try to make small talk as she gives him a tour of the ship, including the gym and a couple of observation lounges. Once upon a time, Tony probably would have tried flirting with her, just as a way to pass the time, but discretion seems the better part of valor when he’s around people who know John.

 

Or who might know John, or how it might get back to John, when Tony is really hoping they can make this thing between them permanent.

 

“And these are your quarters, sir,” she says after she shows him around the ship. “There’s an intercom, and if you need anything, please page me. I’m your designated liaison while you’re with us.”

 

“Thank you, Airman Lee,” he says formally.

 

His room is small, _really_ small, but Tony stows his duffel bag under his bunk and bounces experimentally on the mattress. The bed isn’t too bad, and he’s slept on narrower bunks in the past. His quarters during his time as agent afloat weren’t much bigger, and he’ll see John at the end of the journey.

 

Tony has a laptop with a bunch of movies loaded up, and he’ll probably utilize the gym and the observation lounges, but he has a two-week vacation to catch up on his sleep.

 

Tony idly wonders what it will be like to be around John while he’s in _his_ element, and when they’re able to be out. It’s the first time they’ll be spending time together while being open about their relationship. He wonders if things will be different.

 

He wishes he’d had time to buy a ring or something, but maybe it can wait until they’re back in the States.

 

Tony catches a nap before dinner and then heads to the mess, knowing that he sticks out like a sore thumb in his jeans and t-shirt.

 

“Sir!” Airman Lee jogs through the corridor. “Agent DiNozzo, Colonel Caldwell sent me to get you for dinner in the officer’s mess.”

 

“Oh, sure,” Tony replies. “Happy to join him.”

 

“Right this way,” Lee says. “Colonel Caldwell thought you might be more comfortable with him and the other officers.”

 

“I suppose I do stick out,” Tony replies self-deprecatingly. “I didn’t have time to pack much.”

 

“Well, you’ll probably get more people to talk to you wearing casual clothes,” Lee replies. “The suits around here are generally with the IOA, and nobody likes them. Sir. Sorry.”

 

Tony smiles. “Don’t apologize, Airman. Clothes make the man, and there are times and places that are appropriate for suits.”

 

The officers’ mess is a little more formal than the regular ship’s mess with actual tables set with plates and silverware, although Caldwell is wearing a flight suit, rather than dress blues.

 

“Have a seat,” Caldwell invites, directing him to the seat on his right hand. “I know the quarters are a little tight.”

 

Tony waves off the quasi-apology. “I’ve been an agent afloat before, and it’s temporary.”

 

Caldwell smiles. “To be honest, I’ve fielded a lot of bitching from others catching a ride.”

 

“Perspective is everything,” Tony replies.

 

“Speaking of perspective, I have a bit of a favor to ask,” Caldwell replies after the food is served and the airman leaves the room. “We have a situation on board, and I could use an investigator.”

 

Tony blinks. “What happened to not going where I wasn’t allowed and being really bored for two weeks?”

 

Caldwell motions to the empty room. “We’re alone. We weren’t alone on the bridge.”

 

“Fair enough,” Tony replies. “What kind of problem are you having?”

 

“The Trust has infiltrated the SGC before,” Caldwell replies. “They used me to do it by planting a Goa’uld in my head.”

 

Tony grimaces. “Okay, that sounds horrifying.”

 

“It rates as one of the worst experiences of my life,” Caldwell says bluntly. “I have several service members on board who have been acting a little off. I want to know why.”

 

“So, you want me to ferret out whether they’re acting weird because they’re having an affair, or some other mostly innocuous reason, or if they’re actually an alien,” Tony replies.

 

“I’d appreciate it,” Caldwell replies seriously.

 

Tony nods. “Right. Well, making friends and being nosy are two things I do best. I will try my best not to piss anybody off.”

 

“Piss them off if you need to,” Caldwell replies. “It’s a two week trip, Tony. Just find out what you can.”

 

“Happy to help,” Tony replies. “I’ll need the names of those you think are acting strange.”

 

“You’ll have it first thing in the morning,” Caldwell promises.

 

Caldwell is as good as his word, and Airman Lee delivers a handwritten list the next morning complete with ranks and timelines.

 

She’s still standing there, watching as Tony reads the list of names, and he asks, “Did Colonel Caldwell give you any instructions?”

 

“He said I was to be at your disposal, sir,” Lee replies. “Whatever you need.”

 

“Who’s the biggest gossip on board?” Tony asks.

 

Lee thinks about it for a moment. “That would probably be Sergeant Stafford, sir. He works supply.”

 

“Does he use the gym?” Tony asks.

 

Lee frowns. “I think so. Just about everybody does. It’s the only way to stay in shape while on board ship.” She glances at the paper. “Did Colonel Caldwell ask you to look into things?”

 

“Do you know what things I should be looking into?” Tony asks.

 

Lee shakes her head. “No, but a couple of people have been acting weird.”

 

“What kind of weird?” Tony asks.

 

Lee hesitates. “Well…”

 

“I don’t want to get anybody into trouble, and I won’t say anything until I know exactly what’s going on,” Tony promises.

 

“Okay,” Lee replies and takes a deep breath. “So, Technical Sergeant Angela Andrews is one of the best, right? I mean, she’s really good, and one of Caldwell’s favorites because he likes people who are good at their jobs. But her performance has been going steadily downhill over the last six months. A few others have been acting kind of spooked, too.”

 

Tony goes over the potential causes in his head. He has to add “alien mind control” to the list of possible causes, but drug use and interpersonal difficulties are also high on the list when there’s a decrease in performance.

 

“Does the SGC have random drug screenings?” he asks.

 

Lee nods. “Yes, sir, although I don’t know many who would risk getting discharged from the SGC.”

 

“All right,” Tony says, rubbing his hands together. “Let’s get to the bottom of this.”

 

~~~~~

 

John checks the schedule against the mission roster and realizes that his team has a mission scheduled for the same day the _Daedalus_ is due to arrive. “I need you to take that mission.”

 

Lorne glances up. “I have no problem with that, sir, but is there a reason?”

 

“The _Daedalus_ is coming in, along with a special delivery from General O’Neill,” John replies.

 

Lorne smirks at him. “Would this be your boyfriend, sir?”

 

“Scuttlebutt?”

 

“It gets around,” Lorne agrees. “Congratulations, by the way.”

 

John lets out a breath. “Thanks.”

 

“We’ve got your back, sir,” Lorne replies.

 

“It’s appreciated.” John checks the time and says, “I have a trip to the Athosian settlement planned in fifteen minutes. You good here?”

 

“I can finish up,” Lorne replies. “And if you need anything to help you pop the question in style, I’ll see what I can do.”

 

John shakes his head. “It’s nice to know everyone is so invested in my love life.”

 

“Hey, it’s the best entertainment we’ve had in ages,” Lorne replies with a cheeky grin.

 

Teyla meets him by Puddlejumper 1. “I’ve called in a few favors, John. The rings are my gift to you both.”

 

“Teyla, you don’t have to do that,” John protests.

 

Teyla puts a hand on his arm. “In my culture, it is traditional for family members to give the couple items that will help them start a life together. Normally, that would be a tent or blankets, cooking gear, something practical. But in your culture rings are traditionally exchanged, and are required. I understand that the rings symbolize belonging.”

 

John nods. “Yeah, they do.”

 

“So, let me do this for you,” Teyla says. “You are family, and Tony will be family as well.”

 

John knows when he’s beat, and he inclines his head. “Okay. Thank you.”

 

“You’re learning,” she says, probably referring to his gracious thanks, instead of an argument.

 

The Athosians have established themselves on New Athos, mostly by bringing in other people who need a relatively safe place, as well as orphans who need a home. Their numbers may have been decimated, but they’re making a comeback.

 

A few of those kids run up to the Puddlejumper as soon as John lands, calling out greetings and questions, and John returns their hellos with high fives. Teyla leads him to a tent near the center of the Athosian encampment, and calls, “Miri? It’s Teyla and Colonel Sheppard.”

 

The tent flap is open, and Miri calls out, “Come in!”

 

Miri is sitting on the floor, what looks like a lap desk on her crossed legs, working with fine wire and beads. She puts it aside when they entire and rises to greet them. “Teyla, a pleasure to see you, and Colonel Sheppard.”

 

Miri and Teyla touch foreheads, and then Miri does the same for John. “Teyla tells me that you are seeking a betrothal gift for your beloved.”

 

“That’s correct,” John replies. “Rings are traditional for us.”

 

“Teyla said as much,” Miri replies. “I believe I have something suitable for you. I have a pair of rings that I made several years ago.” She produces a small leather pouch, and when John holds out his hand, she shakes out two metal rings.

 

“What kind of metal is this?” John asks.

 

Miri shrugs. “I’m not sure what you call it, but the original material came from a world called Boros. The metal has some flexible properties, making it ideal for jewelry. Put one on.”

 

John slides one of the rings onto his left ring finger, feeling some resistance, and then it appears to stretch slightly for a perfect fit. The metal is a dark gray with a somewhat matte finish with flat, smooth edges. It’s comfortable and perfect for fieldwork because it won’t catch the light.

 

He doesn’t want to take it off, but he slides it off and drops it back into the bag. “It’s perfect. They’re perfect.”

 

Miri beams at him. “They will last you both a lifetime. I wish you much joy with your love.”

 

“Thank you,” John says quietly. “Having him come here was unexpected, and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get the rings.”

 

“You have been of great help to our people, Colonel Sheppard,” Miri replies.

 

John is a little embarrassed, but he tries to be gracious. “These are quite the find,” John says as he and Teyla leave.

 

Teyla smiles. “I knew Miri would have something appropriate.”

 

John pats the pocket where he’d placed the rings. “Thanks.”

 

He actually feels a little surer of himself with the rings on hand. Granted, a marriage proposal isn’t going to solve the essential problem of being light years away from each other and having careers that aren’t generally compatible, but he likes the idea of being connected by matching rings.

 

Now, of course, he just has to wait.

 

John tries to stay busy over the next few days. Waiting for Tony’s arrival is odd. He hadn’t known he would run into Tony the first time they reunited, of course, and the last time he’d been back in D.C., he hadn’t known what to expect.

 

John knows what he’s getting into this time, and he’s eagerly anticipating Tony’s arrival.

 

The day Tony is due to arrive, John ensures that there are quarters near his own for Tony’s use. Not that he expects Tony _will_ use them, but he wants to offer the option, and his bed is fairly narrow.

 

Otherwise, he goes about his day in the hopes of distracting himself. John gives up all pretenses shortly before it’s scheduled to arrive that afternoon, heading out onto the east pier to wait. He still has the rings in his left pocket, but he’s torn on how to pop the question.

 

Their relationship isn’t exactly built on romance or wining and dining, and it’s not like he has a lot of options on Atlantis. His room has a balcony with a great view of the sunset, but he’s just not sure he wants to wait.

 

“Gate room to Sheppard,” Chuck says over the radio.

 

“Go for Sheppard.”

 

“Colonel Caldwell has requested space in our brig, sir.”

 

John’s eyebrows go up. “How many prisoners, and did he give a reason?”

 

“Violations of the UCMJ, and two prisoners, sir,” Chuck replies professionally.

 

John blows out a breath. “Send security to meet the _Daedalus_ on the east pier and contact the SGC and let them know we’re going to need authorization for a transfer.”

 

They don’t dial back to Earth all that often because of the amount of power it takes, and the regular appearances by the _Daedalus_. Medical emergencies get a pass, but they’ve never had a prisoner transfer before.

 

John has to wonder what the hell happened, given that it’s more expedient to confine the guilty parties to their quarters. Of course, space on the _Daedalus_ is limited, and certain offenses against a person would eliminate that option.

 

Of course, that means he’s going to have to be official, rather than being able to do what he’d like, which is drag Tony back to his quarters immediately.

 

“Lorne, I need you on the east pier,” John says into his com. “We’re going to need to set up a schedule for guarding prisoners.”

 

“No rest for the wicked, huh?” Lorne replies, sounding sympathetic. “I can get started on the schedule and just have you sign off on it, sir.”

 

“Let’s wait on that to see who we’re confining,” John replies. “But I’ll take you up on that offer after we get more details.”

 

In the back of John’s mind, there’s a little niggling suspicion that Tony might have something to do with this mess. Not that he thinks Tony would have gotten into trouble, but he’s an investigator, and the service members had violated the UCMJ to an extent that required time in the brig.

 

Lorne joins John shortly before the _Daedalus_ is scheduled to land. “Do we know anything more?”

 

John shakes his head. “Although it’s not too surprising. They haven’t been convicted of anything, and Caldwell might want to keep it off the record for now.”

 

“Fair enough,” Lorne replies.

 

John rocks back on his heels, feeling the time drawing closer, and then seeing the _Daedalus_ as a pinpoint in the sky. It gets larger and larger until John sees the familiar shape clearly.

 

He’s never anticipated the landing of the _Daedalus_ as much as he does in that moment, not even after the first year of the expedition, because he’d never thought the ship would come in time. John’s adrenalin is pumping, his mouth dry, and it’s more intense even than battle because he’s _used_ to getting shot at.

 

The _Daedalus_ lands, and the first to disembark are Caldwell, along with two service members with their hands zip tied behind their backs and a couple of other airmen who seem to be acting as MPs. The prisoners are fairly young, probably early twenties, and both wear sullen expressions. Tony is right behind them, looking pleased with himself, and he breaks out into an even broader grin when he sees John.

 

Caldwell shakes John’s hand. “I appreciate you taking these two off my hands. I’ll talk to Lieutenant Colonel Lorne about the necessities, and Agent DiNozzo will fill you in on the details.”

 

“And oh, there are a lot of juicy details,” Tony says, although his grin is that of a predator. It’s a shark’s grin, and John has a sinking feeling.

 

John glances at Lorne, who nods. “I’ll send an email with the guard rotation, but I can handle matters for now.”

 

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow morning about arranging leave time for the crew,” Caldwell says. “But everyone is restricted to the ship until tomorrow at noon.”

 

John agrees. “Thank you, Colonel. We’ll make sure your people are cleared as soon as possible.”

 

Caldwell shakes his head. “Wait until Agent DiNozzo fills you in, then decide what you want to do.”

 

John knows whatever they did, he’s going to be really pissed off about. Caldwell and the others leave the pier, leaving John with Tony.

 

“I see you found trouble,” John says.

 

Tony lets out a laugh. “Yeah, you could say that. Although, to be fair, Caldwell asked me to get involved.”

 

John can’t help but reach for him. “How bad?”

 

“Dishonorable discharge at the very least, and probably some prison time if the sexual assault charge sticks,” Tony replies.

 

John winces. “Shit.”

 

“Just to get this out of the way until the briefing tomorrow,” Tony begins. “Caldwell thought there were a few people on his crew acting strangely, and he was worried about the Trust.”

 

“Fair,” John comments, thinking about seeing Caldwell infected by a Goa’uld.

 

Tony grimaces. “So, no Goa’ulds that I could find, but Caldwell was right about the weirdness. Turns out those two fuckers were blackmailing one of the people under his command into sexual favors over her being a lesbian. After DADT got repealed, there seemed to be some question as to whether the service member would turn them in, and a few people found out about it. Nobody wanted to be the one to blow the whistle, and the victim was pretty messed up about the whole thing.”

 

John shakes his head. “I mean, I knew of it happening…”

 

“Yeah,” Tony replies. “Caldwell is pissed that no one came to him, and those two assholes admitted everything but think they’ve done nothing wrong.”

 

John reaches out, pulling him into a loose embrace, and Tony drops the duffel bag he’s holding. “Two weeks of that, huh?”

 

“Just about,” Tony agrees. “The case broke the day before yesterday. I think. I’m not sure how time aboard the _Daedalus_ lines up with the time zone here.”

 

John just holds him. “But no shots fired?”

 

“It was all very non-violent,” Tony assures him. “Mostly, it involved my gift for gab.”

 

“And your gift for knowing who to talk to and putting people at ease,” John replies, knowing that Tony’s still a little sensitive about that. “I know you, Tony.”

 

Tony huffs out a laugh and presses his face to the side of John’s neck. “Oh, god, I’m so glad to see you, you don’t even know. I feel like I’ve walked into the Twilight Zone, and you’re the only thing that makes sense.”

 

“I love you,” John says. “So fucking much.”

 

“I know,” Tony replies, and pulls back to give John a big grin. “I love you, too.”

 

John is looking into Tony’s eyes, and he doesn’t want to go another minute without having an answer to his question, even if it makes the rest of their time together awkward.

 

He pulls the leather pouch out of his pocket and says, “I’m pretty sure I already know the answer to this question, but I want to ask it anyway.”

 

Tony’s eyes widen, as does his grin. “It seems great minds think alike.”

 

“I got the rings from a friend of Teyla’s, one of her people,” John explains. “I’m not exactly sure what the metal is, but I had Rodney check them out, and he’s certain they won’t harm us. They’ll adjust slightly for our fingers. He wants to study them, but I told him to get his own rings.”

 

Tony’s grin gentles. “John, you still haven’t asked the question.”

 

John shakes the rings out of the bag and holds them out. “Will you marry me?”

 

“With your crazy alien rings?” Tony jokes.

 

“ _Tony_.”

 

“You said you already knew the answer,” Tony replies. “Which is, of course, yes.”

 

John feels a lump in his throat. “Yes?”

 

“Put the ring on my finger, John,” Tony orders. “We’ll take care of the ceremony later. We already have 90 percent of the paperwork done.”

 

John grins helplessly. “We’ll probably have to do two ceremonies, one here and one on earth.”

 

“Great, I’m on board, I want to be married to you, and we’ll figure out everything else later.” Tony wiggled his fingers at him. “Come on, I want to experience the weird alien ring for myself.”

 

John slides one of the rings on the appropriate finger, and Tony hisses. “Oh, man. I can feel it adjusting. That is _so cool_.”

 

Tony grabs the other ring, and when John holds out his hand, Tony slides the second ring on John’s finger, and he shudders. It’s more than the slight adjustment of the ring to his finger; it just suddenly hits home that this is _real_.

 

“Yeah,” Tony breathes, his left hand to John’s, the rings touching, and they both shiver. “I think we need a room.”

 

“I’ve got one of those,” John replies, although he can’t bring himself to move. “I have quarters set aside for you, too.”

 

“I won’t need them.”

 

“My bed’s kind of small.”

 

“I don’t care,” Tony insists. “I can deal with it. I don’t want to spend more time apart than we have to. I know you have a job here.”

 

“I’ve got good people to help out,” John replies. “I’ll spend as much time with you as I can.”

 

Tony kisses him deeply. “Good. I want you to show me your city, but first I want to see your quarters.”

 

Normally, John doesn’t go in for public displays of affection, but the thing is, he _can_. He can hold Tony’s hand as they walk the halls of Atlantis, and no one can do a fucking thing about it.

 

So, John holds out a hand and Tony intertwines their fingers. John feels the hard press of his ring, and he can’t help but smile.

 

As much as they both want to find a room, they walk through the hallways slowly. Tony looks around him with so much awe and wonder in his eyes that John can’t help but remember the first time he stepped foot on Atlantis, after she came alive. He loves this place, and Tony obviously loves it, too.

 

“I can see why you don’t want to leave,” Tony says in an undertone. “This place is incredible!”

 

John grins. “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”

 

He’s pleased that Tony understands on a deeper level why John hadn’t wanted to stay on earth in spite of Tony’s presence.

 

“Is there an echo in the back of your mind?” Tony asks.

 

John blinks. “You have the gene?”

 

“O’Neill tested me on one of those projection things, and had me sit in the chair,” Tony replies. “Did I forget to mention that in my email?”

 

John snorts. “I have a feeling that there was a lot you ‘forgot’ to mention.”

 

Tony shrugs. “I had to leave something for us to talk about, right?”

 

John can’t help but laugh. “What was the chair like?”

 

“Amazing,” Tony admits. “Like I was connected to something bigger than myself. I sat there, and I thought about the sky, and could see everything in my head.”

 

John feels a thrill. “Do you want to go up in a Jumper?”

 

“What’s that?” Tony asks. “But yes. I mean, whatever you want to do.”

 

“It’s an aircraft that only works for those with the ATA gene,” John replies eagerly. “I know you’re not a pilot, but McKay has flown them, and they respond to your thoughts.”

 

“ _Yes_ ,” Tony says fervently. “God, yes.”

 

John grins. “Okay, I’ll put in for some time. There’s a great beach we could go to that I’ve found.”

 

The relief that’s bubbling up is unbelievable. Tony is _here_ , on Atlantis, with _him_. They can get married. He doesn’t have to hide. There are no more secrets between them. Tony _understands_ Atlantis, and John can take him up in a Jumper. Tony can maybe _fly_ a Jumper.

 

“Hey, while you’re here, you need to be careful,” John says. “Don’t touch anything, even if you really want to.”

 

Tony releases John’s hand to sling an arm around his waist, bringing them even closer. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

 

“I could tell you stories,” John says quietly. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you.”

 

“Same here,” Tony replies. “I wouldn’t hurt you like that, John.”

 

That response is what John needs to hear.

 

As they walk through the halls, they see a few people, and while John gets a few confused looks, everyone offers a cheerful hello. By chance, Ann Teldy passes them, and she salutes. “I see the trip back to earth wasn’t necessary on your part, sir.”

 

“Major Teldy, Special Agent DiNozzo,” John replies. “Tony, Major Teldy.”

 

John happens to know that Teldy will be getting promoted in a couple of months, but he’s looking forward to surprising her with that news when she’s back after the New Year. Although John may be looking at a trip back to earth sooner than Teldy, at least if he accompanies the prisoners.

 

“Congratulations to you both,” Teldy says, glancing at their hands.

 

“Thank you, Major,” John replies.

 

She smirks. “I’ll let you get back to it, sir.”

 

John fights a rising blush and tugs Tony along.

 

“Your people seem invested in your happiness,” Tony comments blandly.

 

“I suppose they are,” John agrees. “A happy boss makes for a happy base.”

 

“I suppose it does,” Tony replies. “I know I always thought so.”

 

Thankfully, they don’t run into anyone else John feels compelled to talk to on the way to his quarters, and he’s incredibly grateful that his team hadn’t insisted on greeting Tony on the pier.

 

As soon as the door slides shut behind them, Tony drops his bag and John shoves him up against the wall. It’s everything John’s been wanting for so long, and Tony’s hands frame his face, kissing him with a desperation that matches John’s.

 

John shoves his hands under Tony’s shirt, touching warm, smooth skin, and Tony pulls him closer still. “Off,” he mutters. “Shirt off.”

 

Tony lets go long enough to pull his shirt over his head. “You, too.”

 

John opens a couple of buttons and manages to pull both shirts over his head, and then it’s bare skin on bare skin, and John sighs in relief. “Yeah.”

 

Tony pops the button on John’s pants and John returns the favor, and in a few minutes, they’re naked. It would have only taken a few seconds, but they keep stopping to make out, unable to keep their hands off each other.

 

And it’s so _fucking_ good. They’re both whole, uninjured, and John wants to fuck Tony. He wants to be fucked. He wants everything, and he has no idea what to prioritize.

 

“We get off, we take the edge off, and then we figure out who gets fucked first,” Tony says as though reading John’s mind. “Here, just—”

 

And then Tony wraps a hand around both their dicks, spreading pre-come, and John is gone. He hasn’t come this fast since high school.

 

Tony laughs, but it’s amused, not cruel, and he’s coming soon after.

 

“Fuck, I haven’t come that fast since I was sixteen,” John says breathlessly, resting his forehead on Tony’s shoulder.

 

“Me neither,” Tony admits candidly. “Is there a place where we can get cleaned up?”

 

“The shower is about as small as the bed, but you’re welcome to it,” John replies easily. “I’m glad you have the gene, because the quarters in this area work better if you use your brain.”

 

“Oh, I try to always use my brain,” Tony replies with a wicked grin.

 

John isn’t quite ready to let Tony out of his sight, so he leans in the doorway while he gets cleaned up. “So, you want to tell me how _exactly_ this all happened?”

 

Tony laughs. “Well, it’s kind of a funny story, really.”

 

“Funny like the time you got the plague and then got blown up as soon as you returned to work?” John asks. “Or funny like the time when you stopped an armed robbery with a well-aimed can of soup?”

 

“Little of column A, little of column B,” Tony replies, and the water turns off. John hands him a towel. “Thanks.”

 

“So?” John prompts.

 

Tony dries off briskly. “You remember that terrorist I was chasing who disappeared?”

 

“Sure, out of thin air you said,” John replies. “I…may have passed word along to O’Neill about it.”

 

Tony laughs. “That would explain why he showed up in the nick of time to save my life.” He launches into the rest of the tale at that point as John gets cleaned up, explaining how he’d worked the leads, exhumed the body of a Naval officer who died under suspicious circumstances, and then hit a dead end.

 

He describes how he’d spotted Moore at a Starbucks and followed him to his meeting with a couple of others in the Trust cell, and they’d started shooting at him. “With a weapon right out of a sci-fi movie!” Tony says. “I was pretty sure they were going to make me disappear like the crates they were vanishing until O’Neill showed up. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m not sure I’ve been happier to see anybody in my life.”

 

John mimes being stabbed in the chest. “You wound me.”

 

“Well, I was mostly thinking about how I’d never see you again, so it was still all about you,” Tony replies with a charming grin that’s still completely sincere.

 

John feels his face soften, feeling warm and mushy inside. “I love you.”

 

Tony leans in for a soft kiss. “Yeah, me too. I can’t believe I’m here, but I’m grateful.”

 

“You’re not having any trouble with sensing Atlantis, are you?” John asks. “Some people have a hard time adjusting.”

 

Tony frowns. “I don’t know. Who else sat down in the chair before they came here?”

 

John blinks, realizing that Tony’s question is just as perspicacious as he’s used to hearing from him. “Me, I think. Carson, but we never talked about whether he had any trouble adjusting. Carson was never as comfortable with the gene as I was.”

 

“I sat down in the chair,” Tony points out. “In Antarctica. I was overwhelmed, but being on Atlantis doesn’t seem as intense. It’s a lot easier to deal with. More of a friendly presence than anything else.”

 

John smiles. “Do you want a tour? I’d try for round two, but I’m getting a little too old for that.”

 

“I’d love to see your city, John,” Tony replies easily. “Of course.”

 

~~~~~

 

Atlantis is just as amazing as Tony anticipated, full of light, mostly open to the sea air, and beautiful. He can’t blame John for wanting to stay here, or being in a hurry to get back. There is literally no place on earth like it, and being on Atlantis feels like coming home.

 

Granted, John is here, but it’s not _just_ that. There’s also this sense that he’s in the right place, which on one level makes no sense. His job isn’t here; his team isn’t here. Tony isn’t even on earth, but he still feels like a puzzle piece slotting into place.

 

Walking around the city, as John introduces him to the main areas, plus the little nooks and crannies he knows, the people they run into, Tony can’t wipe the grin off his face.

 

“Okay, McKay is probably going to hate me for this, but we have race cars,” John says. “Just tell him you used mine if he asks.”

 

Tony grins delightedly. “A man after my own heart.”

 

The racecourse is set up in an out-of-the-way hallway, complete with ramps and obstacles, and Tony feels a thrill. He knows that he has a tendency to be childish at times, but he can be serious and professional, too. He hasn’t dated many people in the past who understood that, who are willing to play like this.

 

They spend a couple of hours racing before a voice says, “You traitor!”

 

John winces. “Tony’s using my car!”

 

“I wasn’t talking about _that_ ,” McKay says quickly, waving a hand. “You told Major Teldy you were engaged before you told me?”

 

John flushes. “Not exactly.” He clambers to his feet, holding out a hand for Tony. “You knew I was going to ask.”

 

“I didn’t know what he said!” McKay protests. “I mean, I’m glad he was smart enough to say yes, but you said he was intelligent, so that’s not much of a surprise. But Teldy knew first!”

 

Tony clears his throat. “I assure you, that wasn’t our intention. We were heading for John’s quarters when we ran into her.”

 

“And your radio doesn’t work?” McKay demands of John.

 

“I wasn’t really thinking about how to break the news,” John replies. “Or breaking the news at all, really.”

 

“What’s more important?” McKay asks.

 

Tony snorts and then chokes on his laughter. “We haven’t seen each other for over a year, Dr. McKay. You do the math.”

 

The light dawns. Apparently, in the middle of his hurt feelings, he hadn’t really thought of the reasons John might not have been on top of notifying his friends about the good news. McKay flushes. “I just wanted to be the first to congratulate you both,” he says sincerely. “I’m really happy for you.”

 

“Thanks,” John replies, reaching out to haul McKay in for a hug. “I really appreciate the support.”

 

“Of course,” McKay says, apparently surprised that John would even have doubts. “DiNozzo, um, Tony, welcome to the team, and to Atlantis.”

 

Tony accepts the outstretched hand, grateful for the welcome. “Thanks, Rodney. I appreciate you looking out for John while I’m not here.”

 

He knows it’s the right tactic when John grins and McKay’s expression brightens. “Of course,” McKay replies stoutly. “Always. I mean, when John lets me. He doesn’t seem to have the same self-sacrificing streak he used to.”

 

Tony glances at John. “And you were giving _me_ a hard time over my work history?”

 

“I didn’t get the plague!” John defends himself.

 

Tony glances at McKay, sensing that he could get a straight answer out of him. “Well, no,” McKay says. “But you got turned into a bug, which is arguably worse.”

 

“That wasn’t my fault!”

 

“Neither was me getting the plague,” Tony points out.

 

McKay’s eyes narrow. “Riding a nuke into space?”

 

“If I swear not to do something that’s stupidly self-sacrificial again, would you drop it?” John asks, exasperated.

 

McKay smirks. “You mean I can promise not to tell Tony more of your most embarrassing stories in return for you not being stupid?”

 

“Oh, no, I don’t think that’s fair,” Tony objects. “I don’t see why I should have to miss out on these stories. John knows most of mine.”

 

“I think we can work something out,” McKay says magnanimously.

 

John’s eyes narrow. “You can tell the stories if I’m present, so I can correct your exaggerations.”

 

“Excuse you,” McKay says, offended. “I never exaggerate.”

 

John puts the cars away. “Isn’t it about time for dinner?”

 

“That’s why I came to find you,” McKay says, sounding offended. “Plus, everybody wants to congratulate you both. The cooks might have whipped up a cake.”

 

John blinks. “It hasn’t been that long!”

 

“Uh, Major Teldy told Major Lorne, who mentioned it to Woolsey in the name of giving you some time off while DiNozzo is here,” McKay says as they head for the mess. “But Chuck overheard, and it’s pretty much all over the city at this point. The cooks said it would only take a couple of hours to put something together, and I was sent to retrieve you. When you weren’t in your quarters, doing something that I would _not have interrupted_ , I came to find you.”

 

Tony feels his lips twitch. “So, we’re being punished because we weren’t fucking like rabbits?”

 

“I wouldn’t have put it that way,” McKay says haughtily. “But essentially yes.”

 

“You could lie for me,” John suggests.

 

McKay grabs John’s arm. “Um, no. Everybody is waiting for you, they’re happy for you, and you’re going to show up. Mostly because I don’t think they’re going to serve cake unless you’re there. And I want cake.”

 

“And it’s all about what you want,” John says dryly as Tony follows in their wake.

 

“It’s _cake_ ,” McKay insists. “I’ll run interference for you as soon as cake is served. You’ll have hours to fuck like bunnies, as DiNozzo so indelicately puts it.”

 

“Indelicate, but pretty accurate,” John admits.

 

McKay groans aloud. “Too much information!”

 

Tony laughs, knowing that he’s going to use that again in the future. McKay is just a little too easy of a mark, not that he plans on being a total asshole. McKay feels a little fragile to Tony, and his friendship with John and openhearted acceptance of their relationship, makes Tony feel a little protective of him.

 

Tony has no idea what he’s walking into, although he has some clue when McKay releases John’s arm and pushes them in together. He half-expects applause, but instead, he sees every single person stand up. Military personnel salute; those not in the military still stand up, offering respect in whatever way seemed most appropriate.

 

Granted, Tony can only guess at that, but the display brings a lump to his throat, and he can’t imagine how John feels, having hidden this part of himself for so long, and having come out in such a public manner.

 

John reaches for Tony’s hand, and they interlace their fingers. John’s second-in-command meets them at the door. “Colonel Sheppard, Agent DiNozzo, congratulations. Your team has a table for you.”

 

John frowns. “I thought—”

 

“It’s a celebration, sir,” the man replies. “I had to talk them out of something more effusive.”

 

“Thank you, Lorne,” John replies. “And, by the way, Tony, this is my second-in-command, Lieutenant Colonel Evan Lorne. I’m sorry I didn’t think to introduce you before.”

 

“Evan, sir,” he says, holding a hand out to Tony. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

 

“Same,” Tony replies, feeling the weight of Lorne’s sincerity. “I appreciate the warm welcome.”

 

“You’ve made our commander happy,” Lorne replies simply.

 

John’s ears turn pink, and Rodney leads them over to a table with Ronon and Teyla already in residence, along with a small boy.

 

“DiNozzo,” Ronon says, gripping Tony’s forearm. “Good to see you.”

 

“Likewise,” Tony replies.

 

“Tony,” Teyla says warmly, putting her hands on his shoulders and drawing his forehead to hers. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

 

Tony suddenly realizes that Ronon and Teyla are probably not from earth. The feeling of difference he got when he’d last met them hadn’t been inaccurate; it just hadn’t been fully informed.

 

“It’s good to be here,” Tony replies. “And it’s good to see you both again. Thanks for looking after John.”

 

“Always,” Teyla insists. “And this is my son, Torren John.”

 

Tony looks at the bright-eyed, dark-haired little boy, maybe around three. He crouches down. “Hello.”

 

Torren hides his face against his mother’s leg, and Tony shrugs. “I’m not good with kids.”

 

“Torren John is shy with most strangers,” Teyla replies. “And he saw the others respond to your presence formally. Come, Torren. He is your Uncle John’s beloved.”

 

Something about those words breaks through Torren’s shyness, and Torren reaches out and pats Tony’s face. Tony can’t help but be charmed. “Thank you, kiddo.”

 

Torren beams, and Teyla whispers, “That’s what John often calls him.”

 

“Great minds,” Tony jokes.

 

McKay snorts. “Please. It’s probably more about the fact that you’re both the same age with much the same background.”

 

Tony glances at John. “Is he insinuating that we aren’t intelligent?”

 

“I think he is,” John replies, sitting down.

 

“Sounded that way to me,” Ronon agrees.

 

McKay let out an indignant squawk. “That wasn’t what I meant! I was just giving you a hard time.”

 

Tony exchanges a grin with John and a smirk with Ronon, and McKay glares. “Oh, I see how this is going to go.”

 

“I have no idea what you mean,” John replies innocently.

 

“Ganging up on me,” McKay grumbles, but he has a smile. That kind of ribbing is apparently okay, and Tony makes a note of it. He doesn’t want to cross the line, not when McKay is watching John’s back.

 

A slight man with a thin moustache arrives at their table with two covered plates. “Colonel Sheppard, Agent Dinozzo, our compliments.”

 

Tony has no idea what he’s eating when the cover comes off, but he smiles and says, “It looks great. Thank you.”

 

“Thanks, Sergeant Dimas,” John says. “This looks fantastic. I hear there’s cake.”

 

“I thought it might take that threat to get you here,” Dimas replies. “But yes, there might be cake. I suppose you’ll have to wait long enough to figure that out.”

 

“The cake is a lie,” Tony mutters.

 

McKay straightens. “Are you kidding me? You know _Portal_?”

 

“I know a geek who has referenced Portal until I learned what that meant out of self defense,” Tony counters.

 

McKay appears completely let down. “Oh, right.”

 

“We should play,” Tony says impulsively. “But only if you never tell McGee about it.”

 

McKay beams. “That would be good.”

 

“I don’t play a lot of computer games other than video golf,” John admits.

 

Tony shrugs. “Neither do I, but I’m willing to try.”

 

Teyla and Ronon both offer approving looks, and John squeezes Tony’s knee under the table. Tony figured that McKay was the one he needed to win over. Ronon and Teyla strike him as people who are happy if John is happy. McKay isn’t all that different, but he needs a little more finesse.

 

Tony figures it’s worth it. McKay is eccentric, but a good guy, and he watches John’s back. Tony can’t help but compare him to McGee, and the comparison isn’t entirely favorable. He can’t imagine McKay turning off coms.

 

Although McKay might get his team into trouble by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time, he’ll always back them up. Tony will offer a lot of leeway for personality quirks when there’s a bedrock of loyalty.

 

The meal is some kind of red meat, buttery and perfectly cooked, with steamed greens and some kind of roasted tuber that tastes like a cross between regular and sweet potatoes. Tony has no idea what he’s eating, but he likes it.

 

Once they’re most of the way through the meal, people start filtering past their table, and Tony notes that both enlisted personnel and officers don’t hesitate to offer congratulations. Granted, they either make it very quick or stay to linger for a few moments depending on their rank, but John’s status doesn’t cause anyone to hesitate.

 

“There’s no officers’ mess here,” Tony observes quietly during a lull.

 

John shrugs. “I know it tends to be standard, but we didn’t have enough officers to make a separate mess make sense. Maybe if I hadn’t continued to be the commanding officer, someone would have insisted on it, but I didn’t see the point.”

 

Tony isn’t terribly surprised to hear that. John isn’t a stickler for rank or protocol, and Tony can see where a base like Atlantis would be perfect for John, where he could do things his way and keep things a little more casual.

 

On Atlantis, that methodology works well. On a base where the strict observance of rank and protocol is necessary, John wouldn’t be nearly as successful.

 

Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course. He’s just glad John’s found a place to belong, even if it’s light years away from where Tony normally is.

 

“We’re going to watch movies in the lounge tonight,” McKay says at the end of dinner. “We understand if you didn’t want to come, but it might be kind of fun.”

 

John glances at Tony, and Tony can see that he wants to go, which is understandable. Everything they’ve done so far has been behind closed doors, done in secret. These people are John’s family, and they never had the chance to do this outside of the infrequent visits with Dave and his family.

 

They’ve never really dated.

 

“I do love movies,” Tony says. “So it sounds good to me.”

 

The lounge area is large enough for a couple of dozen people, and there are chairs and low couches ranged around a blank wall. Someone has set up a projector, and announces that they’ll be showing the first two _Terminator_ movies.

 

Tony grabs a corner of a couch, and stretches his legs out in front of him. John sits next to him, and while neither of them initiates cuddling, as they probably would behind closed doors, they’re still pressed comfortably close together.

 

He feels a low thrum of arousal all through the first movie, and he knows John feels it, too, when he turns to Tony as the credits roll. John doesn’t say anything, just cocks his head at the door, and while Tony actually likes the second film more than the first, he’s more than ready to get out of there.

 

That night, John fucks him stupid, the quickie they’d indulged in earlier taking the edge off enough so that John can take his time, keeping them both on edge until Tony comes, with John following soon after.

 

Falling asleep together, crammed in close on the narrow bed, is just the icing on the cake.

 

~~~~~

 

There’s a part of John that hates having Tony on Atlantis, mostly because he can feel just how easy it would be to get used to him being there, and knowing he can’t stay. Just one night together, waking up with him the following morning, sharing his small bathroom, grabbing breakfast…

 

John wants a thousand mornings just like this one. He wants a hundred thousand mornings, and he’s not going to get them, but knowing what it’s like having Tony here makes that fact that much harder to bear.

 

The briefing is scheduled for 0800 hours, and John leads the way to a conference room where Caldwell, Woolsey, and a few other officers are ranged around the table. Ronon and Teyla aren’t present, probably because this situation doesn’t involve them or a mission.

 

“I thought Agent DiNozzo could bring us all up to speed,” Woolsey says. “Agent DiNozzo?”

 

“Colonel Caldwell asked me to investigate certain members of his crew who appeared to be acting strangely,” Tony replies. “He asked me to put my two weeks on the ship to good use and ferret out any potential Trust agents.”

 

“And did you find any?” Woolsey asks.

 

“No, but I found a service member who had been coerced into sexual favors by two airmen, because they found out she was a lesbian,” Tony replies. “Turns out most of the crew knew about it, but no one knew quite who to report. Even with the end of DADT, there was some concern about the victim’s career if she was outed or reported it herself. My advice would be to start setting up sensitivity training and anonymous reporting procedures so that when—not if—situations like this come up again, people know what to do about it.”

 

“Agreed,” Caldwell replies. “What are we going to about Jones and Mason?”

 

“I sent a message through to Earth,” Woolsey replies. “I trust you don’t have to return immediately and can wait for a response?”

 

Caldwell nods. “I can wait. I’d like to offer R&R on the city for those not implicated.”

 

“I think we can accept that, provided that they behave appropriately,” Woolsey replies.

 

“Of course,” Caldwell agrees. “And if there’s any trouble, I’ll deal with it.”

 

“Until then, I’ve spoken to Lieutenant Colonel Lorne, and he’s agreed to take on your duties today and tomorrow, Colonel Sheppard,” Woolsey says. “I believe there’s a Jumper with your name on it, and a picnic lunch waiting for you.”

 

John blinks. “Uh, what?”

 

“John, gift horse, mouth,” Tony mutters. “Take the win and run.”

 

John barks out a laugh. “Right. Thank you.”

 

Woolsey smiles. “Your union is the first one on Atlantis, and we are all very happy for you both.”

 

John has been hiding for so long, he’s not quite sure what to do with the ready acceptance. “Thank you, Mr. Woolsey.”

 

“Of course,” Woolsey replies. “I just hope you’ll consider having a small ceremony here. I believe I’m technically capable of performing marriage ceremonies, although you would, of course, need to have it officially recognized on earth.”

 

“We would be honored,” Tony replies smoothly. “And we are thankful for the time we can spend together, of course.”

 

“We are,” John echoes, because Tony’s dealing with this sudden change better than John is. “In fact, I think we’ll collect that basket now.”

 

No one stops them, and John finds Teyla waiting for them in the kitchen. “We spoke to Mr. Woolsey,” she admits. “We thought you might enjoy the time together, and that Tony might enjoy flying, or at least a flying lesson.”

 

John presses his forehead to Teyla’s. “You are amazing.”

 

“And you are my friend, who finally has a chance of happiness,” Teyla replies.

 

She turns to Tony, and uses the same Athosian greeting on him. Tony accepts with good grace, cupping Teyla’s shoulders and closing his eyes. “I’ll take care of him,” Tony promises.

 

“I know you will,” Teyla replies. “Enjoy your picnic.”

 

Zelenka and McKay are standing next to a Jumper. “It’s all ready for you,” McKay says immediately. “We’ve been over it twice, so there shouldn’t be any technical issues. We can’t guard against completely unforeseen circumstances, but the Jumper is in perfect condition at least.”

 

“Great, thanks,” John replies. “Seriously, _thank you_.”

 

McKay shrugs. “Of course.”

 

He says it like it’s no big deal, but to John it’s huge to have this kind of acceptance and care.

 

“Pleasure to meet you,” Zelenka says to Tony. “And you’re very welcome.”

 

“Let’s go before someone comes up with an emergency,” John says. “I’ll let Lorne know we’re leaving.”

 

“Already taken care of,” McKay replies. “You’re clear until 8 pm.”

 

“Above and beyond, Rodney,” John murmurs.

 

Rodney smiles at him. “No, this is just me being your best friend. Enjoy your honeymoon, what you can get of it.”

 

John laughs. “Yeah, thanks.”

 

He takes the Jumper up and brings them to cruising altitude, above the city, and far enough out that Tony has some leeway if he doesn’t catch on right away, and then John sets the autopilot. “Okay, you’re going to take the controls, but I just want you to think about the heads up display. Think about where we are.”

 

The heads up display populates, and Tony’s sharp eyes take it all in. “Where are we headed?”

 

John thinks about the beach he’d found and watches as the Jumper shows the flight path they need to take. “And you just follow that path.”

 

“That simple?” Tony asks.

 

“Depends,” John replies. “Some people have a harder time than others.”

 

John isn’t terribly surprised when Tony’s able to follow the flight path with only minimal corrections. He’s a federal agent with weapons training and good eye-hand coordination and breath control. Plus, he seems to have an excellent grasp of Ancient tech.

 

“You want to loop the loop?” John asks.

 

“I can do that?”

 

“If you can think it, you can do it,” John replies. “And I’m right here to take over if necessary.”

 

Tony sends the Jumper on a loop, although the inertial dampeners mean that they don’t really feel the movement. Tony’s eyes narrow, and he puts on speed, weaving around the flight path indicated on the HUD.

 

John just grins, because he can tell that Tony’s control is as instinctual as his own had been in the beginning, and he wonders if that’s one of the reasons he’d always felt so drawn to Tony.

 

“Uh, John, I think we’re coming up on the landing site,” Tony says.

 

“Okay, this part is easy,” John replies. “Ease back on the speed and the stick. Remember, the Jumpers respond to your thoughts, so it’s mostly about control. Just—”

 

John has only tried this once before. “Can you ease up on your control but remain aware of what I’m doing?”

 

Tony frowns. “Yeah, I think so.”

 

“Do that.”

 

John puts the Jumper down on the deserted stretch of beach and turns to Tony. “Do you think you could land it if we did that again?”

 

Tony makes a so-so gesture with his hand. “Maybe. I wouldn’t want to try it on Atlantis.”

 

“The city will actually take over for you if it becomes an issue,” John replies. “What did you think?”

 

“I don’t think I have the words to describe it,” Tony says after a moment’s thought. “Being able to control something like this with my mind is surreal, but the fact that you don’t really feel the movement or the speed is just as weird, although I knew in my head what I was doing.”

 

John chuckles. “Yeah, I’ve spoken to pilots who prefer the X-302s and some of the other experimental fighter jets we have for just that reason. It’s kind of a mindfuck to be expecting that sensation and not get it.”

 

“At the same time, I _knew_ what was happening,” Tony continues, following John out the back hatch. “It was a lot of fun.”

 

“But not as much fun as taking Miles up in that Cessna,” John supplies.

 

Tony grins broadly. “Maybe not, but I wasn’t flying it, so this trip definitely wins on the cool factor.”

 

The beach is a perfect half circle with green-tinged sands and turquoise water. “I asked Rodney, and he said there’s a higher concentration of copper in the sand than usual, but that it was perfectly safe as long as I didn’t try to eat it,” John offers.

 

“It’s beautiful,” Tony replies, sprawling out on the emergency blanket, which probably shouldn’t be used for sunbathing, but John doesn’t care at the moment. “You know, I used to think that life was too short to be able to visit all the beautiful places in the world, and I figured that’s what I’d do for retirement, if I survived that long.”

 

“And now?”

 

“Now I realize that there are millions of beautiful places, some of which may never be found or seen by the human eye, and I wonder about those places, too,” Tony murmurs.

 

“In my line of work, we’re rarely thinking about the beauty,” John admits, although there are some places he remembers, places that seemed to punch him in the face with the sheer splendor, and he wished he could take pictures that wouldn’t immediately be deemed classified.

 

Tony shucks off his shirt and pants and lies back while John follows his lead. “How did you figure out what was going on?” John asks. “When you were on board?”

 

They hadn’t really gone over that in the meeting, and Tony tucks his hands behind his head. “I talked to people.”

 

John grins, and then he laughs. “Yeah. And people talked to you.”

 

“I think it helped that I was a civilian,” Tony adds. “I mean, I wasn’t going around asking if people belonged to a terrorist organization. I just—talked about…about you.”

 

John props himself up on an elbow. “Seriously?”

 

“I know what Caldwell thought, and I wasn’t sure he was wrong, but there was just a vibe I got,” Tony explains. “I asked the airman showing me around who the biggest gossip on board was, and I figured out when he visited the gym. I did the same thing for the sergeant being blackmailed, since she was one of those who had been acting strangely. She was pretty skittish until I mentioned my boyfriend.”

 

“And she didn’t want to report it?” John asks.

 

“There was a concern that Caldwell wouldn’t respond appropriately because…” Tony waves a hand. “He’s actually a decent guy who isn’t homophobic in the least and was seriously pissed off when he found out what was happening, but…”

 

“They didn’t know.” John sighs. “Let me guess, the person being blackmailed had some disciplinary issues.”

 

“Probably centered around not wanting to work with those two assholes,” Tony agrees. “But word got out that we were dating, and that I was an NCIS agent, and that maybe if I knew, I would know what cages to rattle if Caldwell didn’t do the right thing. One thing led to another, and here we are. If we can get the rape charge to stick, they’ll both get a dishonorable discharge and time in jail, and the victim will get the counseling she needs.”

 

“Rape?”

 

“They coerced her into having sex, John,” Tony says quietly. “They did it over and over again by threatening her career and her girlfriend’s career.”

 

“God.” John puts a hand over his eyes, but he has to admit that he’s grateful it didn’t happen under his command. He has no idea how Caldwell is going to deal with it, but he wouldn’t want to be on the crew of the _Daedalus_ at the moment. “I’m tempted to have you go through Atlantis, see if you can’t root out any problems.”

 

Tony is quiet for a moment. “You’d have the opposite problem, actually. Since I’m the boss’s partner, people might be less inclined to come to me. I’d set up an anonymous reporting function so that people who see something can say something.”

 

“There is one already,” John admits. “Sam was smart enough to set it up while she was commanding the mission, and we’ve left it in place with minor changes.”

 

“Then I think you’ve done what you can,” Tony replies. “Really, the problem with the _Daedalus_ is that it’s such a small population, there’s no hope of anonymity. But if these two douchebags face serious repercussions, that will serve as a powerful deterrent.”

 

“How long are you staying?” John asks.

 

Tony sighs. “Honestly, I don’t know. I don’t mind O’Neill shanghaiing me, but I had ongoing investigations and a pile of work on my desk. This whole thing has been wild and amazing, and I absolutely adore seeing you and seeing where you work finally, but—”

 

“You have a life.”

 

“At least I had one,” Tony agrees.

 

John frowns. “What does that mean?”

 

“I’m too old to be recruited for the military, but I heard what O’Neill and Landry were saying,” Tony says softly. “I have the gene. They want to be able to count on me to take the chair in Antarctica if necessary.”

 

“You think they’re going to fuck with your job?” John demands. “Tony, if they do something you don’t like, tell them to fuck off. Hell, _I’ll_ tell them to fuck off. I could resign my commission at this point. I don’t owe them anything.”

 

“You owe Atlantis and your team something, though,” Tony points out, “which is why I’m antsy. I’d love to stay forever, but I need to make sure that my team is okay, that our open cases are getting closed, and I don’t want NCIS suddenly figuring out that they can replace me.”

 

“But?”

 

“But if O’Neill came to me with a solution that was the best of all possible worlds and would let me see you more often, I would jump at the chance,” Tony admits. “And I think he probably dumped me on the _Daedalus_ and sent me out here partly for that reason.”

 

John realizes that Tony’s probably right, and it makes him feel a little better. If O’Neill has some long-term goal in mind for Tony, some use he has for Tony, then it’s not like they’re getting something for nothing.

 

John knows there’s no such thing as a free lunch, not in politics.

 

“Okay, you’re probably right, and that actually makes me feel a little better,” John replies.

 

Tony snorts. “I guess we’ll see. You want to take a swim?”

 

The water is pleasantly cool, the sun hot, and they play in the surf like the teenagers they used to be, pausing mid-afternoon to eat, and then napping to let their food settle.

 

They make out but refrain from sex because—as Tony says—sand gets everywhere, but they do just about everything else, before rinsing off and airing dry.

 

The time they have is magical, perfect, and John reluctantly heads back to Atlantis in time to meet the 8 pm curfew. Lorne has been on call for 24 hours now, and while things have been quiet, John still has his duties.

 

Lorne actually meets them in the Jumper bay. “Sir, earth has sent orders that you and Agent DiNozzo are to escort the prisoners through the gate on Friday. General O’Neill sends his apologies that he can’t let Agent DiNozzo stay longer, but he said it was the price of competence. He said that Major Teldy is welcome to accompany you, and that I would helm the city until your return.”

 

“Are you okay with that, Lorne?” John asks.

 

Lorne grins. “Only if you’ll return the favor if and when I meet the hot guy or girl of my dreams.”

 

“Congratulations, you’re the second person to come out to me,” John replies. “And yes. It’s more than deserved.”

 

“Same goes for you and Teldy, sir,” Lorne replies.

 

“I’m on coms for the rest of the night,” John says. “Get some rest. You’ll need it.”

 

Tony has a smile on his face as Lorne salutes. “You have a really good thing going here. These folks would walk through fire for you.”

 

“For you, too,” John feels compelled to point out. “By marrying me, you become one of the family.”

 

There’s an odd expression on Tony’s face. “You know, I sometimes wondered about that. I ran into a lot of military families, mostly grieving widows, but the occasional widower, and most of the time they got a lot of support.”

 

John winces. “Yeah?”

 

“I don’t think it would be the same for us.”

 

John wants to argue, but he can’t. The SGC is relatively tight-knit, but Atlantis is a galaxy away. If something happened to John, O’Neill would look in on Tony, maybe some of the other people he knew at the SGC, but there aren’t many. Most are on Atlantis or dead. “Maybe not,” John replies. “But you never know.”

 

“I suppose it’s different for most,” Tony muses. “I mean, those who aren’t straight.”

 

“I don’t know that either,” John replies. “Although I probably should. I know there are probably people serving under me who don’t feel like they can come out.”

 

“Maybe now they will,” Tony points out. “You basically just got married to a guy on the east pier.”

 

John laughs. “Yeah, I guess so.”

 

~~~~~

 

Other than the order not to touch anything, Tony has free rein on Atlantis while he’s there, and he takes advantage of it. Teyla and Ronon have the most room in their schedules, plus a transitive fondness for Tony, so they’re pretty great about giving him tours, or going running, or teaching him self-defense.

 

Tony plays simple games with Torren, and goes to visit the Athosians with Teyla on an afternoon when they have to pass him off to his father, and just settles in to the rhythms of the city.

 

There’s no place for him here, he’s certain of that. He has the gene, which actually puts him in more danger, since he can activate dangerous things. He doesn’t have military training or any of the specialized training the SGC offers. He’s not a scientist or anything like that.

 

He’s here because he and John want to get married, and while there’s nothing wrong with that, he can’t stay on Atlantis. And if they’re on Atlantis, John is going to end up working. It would be like Tony inviting John to stay with him in Atsugi.

 

Tony doesn’t know what that means for the future of their relationship, but he knows it will be a while before they can be together full time. But they’d known that from the beginning.

 

At least now they can be open, and their friends and family can know about them and not have to worry about outing John.

 

The night before they’re due to leave, they have a small ceremony on the east pier with Woolsey officiating. John’s team ranges around them both, and everyone who’s off duty and wants to be there stands in a loose formation behind them. They opt for the simplest of ceremonies, and Tony can’t quite read the expression on John’s face when he says “I do.”

 

Later, after they’ve had a drink with the others and have retired to John’s quarters, Tony asks, “Are you okay?”

 

John sprawls on his back, hands tucked behind his head, and he says, “There was a mission a few months after I got back the last time. We needed to finalize a trade deal, and the people of this particular planet don’t think unmarried women should be out in public.”

 

Tony winces. “Teyla was with you?”

 

“She was, and they insisted I marry her right there—which was void as soon as we got back to Atlantis,” John says. “I wanted to tell you, but obviously, I couldn’t. But more than that, I wanted it to be you I was marrying.”

 

Tony smiles. “And today you got that wish.”

 

“Today, I did,” John agrees. “And it’s considered binding in the eyes of the military, by the way. We’ll need a license on earth, just to keep our cover secure, but—”

 

Tony kisses him quiet, and then goes in for round two.

 

The following day, Tony stands in the gateroom with Major Teldy, John, and the two douchebags from the _Daedalus_ , ready to take his first trip through the Stargate. He realizes belatedly that he probably should have asked John what to expect, but he’s not going to do that in front of the guys he arrested.

 

“It’s a little weird, but it doesn’t hurt a bit,” John whispers.

 

Tony adjusts his duffel bag and his grip on the first perp’s arm. Major Teldy has an uncompromising grip on the other one, and Tony smirks. He’s seen the look in her eyes, and he has no doubt that Teldy will punch him in the family jewels if he gives her the opportunity.

 

The gate fires up, and Tony stares at the shimmering blue pool.

 

“Are you scared, fag?” Jones, Tony’s perp, asks with a sneer.

 

Tony knows he shouldn’t, but he’s not actually the arresting officer, and he’s not in charge of the prisoner except in the most nominal sense. He pulls a Gibbs and smacks the back of Jones’ head. “Oh, I’m sorry. My hand slipped. It tends to do that when someone acts like a dick.”

 

Teldy smirks and John chokes on a laugh. “You can’t do that!” Jones protests.

 

Tony gives him a look. “John, is there anybody in this room who’s going to notice if I smack the shit out of this asshole, assuming I don’t leave a bruise?”

 

“Well, you’re Italian, and you tend to talk with your hands,” John replies. “I’m sure if you hit him, it would be an accident.”

 

“That’s police brutality!” Jones mutters.

 

“Shut the fuck up,” Mason snaps. “This was all your idea.”

 

“ _You_ shut up!” Jones says.

 

Tony rolls his eyes. “ _Both_ of you shut up! All three of us will happily testify against you at your court martial. _Happily_. And, you know, if you’d like to try to escape, I will _happily_ shoot you in the back.”

 

Both of them subside at that, which Tony’s a little disappointed about. Their poor victim sobbed on Tony’s shoulder, and these assholes will probably get away with a dishonorable discharge and very little jail time. He’s not usually one to approve of rough justice, but there are times he’d love to make an exception.

 

“You two keep going, and you know General O’Neill will find a space gate with your name on it,” John threatens.

 

Both of them pale at that, and Tony doesn’t bother to hide his smirk. Given the classified nature of the Stargate program, he wonders how they’ll handle the court martial. Maybe O’Neill will just disappear them into a deep, dark hole.

 

“Major Teldy, ladies first,” John says.

 

Tony watches as she steps through the gate, and he braces himself and follows. The sensation is like nothing he’s felt before, and he doesn’t really have words to describe it, other than cold and freaky. He supposes that if he went through often enough he’d get used to it, and he’s grateful that he doesn’t get sick.

 

There are MPs waiting for them when Tony steps through, and they take Jones off his hands with brisk efficiency. Tony’s happy to be rid of them.

 

O’Neill and Landry are present, and they spare a glance for the prisoners. “Take them to the brig,” Landry orders the MPs. “Then notify JAG and let them know we’re going to need a couple of attorneys.”

 

“Agent DiNozzo, we appreciate your help,” O’Neill says. “I apologize for having to cut your vacation short.”

 

Tony laughs. “I don’t know that I’d call it a vacation, but I was happy to help. What’s going to happen to them?”

 

“We’ll probably hold them until we can be sure they won’t release classified information,” Landry replies. “Which might be a while. When they were recruited for the SGC, they knew what they were signing up for.”

 

John smirks. “So, Gitmo?”

 

“Something like that,” Landry replies. “And good riddance to bad rubbish.”

 

O’Neill smirks. “Major Teldy, you have two weeks, then you’re back on the _Daedalus_ on its next run. Dismissed.”

 

She salutes sharply. “Thank you, sirs. And Colonel Sheppard, Agent DiNozzo, congratulations.”

 

“Same to you, Major,” John replies.

 

“And while I’m happy to release the two of you as well,” Landry begins. “There’s actually something we need to talk to you about, Agent DiNozzo.”

 

Tony frowns. “I’m not enlisting.”

 

“You’d be wasted as a general light switch,” O’Neill replies. “No, we have something a little different in mind for you.”

 

John rests a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Is this an offer he can’t refuse, or—”

 

“This is more of a situation where Agent DiNozzo has kindly identified a hole that needs filling, and we’ve created a means of filling that hole,” Landry replies. “We’re offering an opportunity.”

 

“Well, after you sent me to another galaxy, the least I can do is hear you out,” Tony replies, glancing at John.

 

John appears more than a little skeptical, and Tony doesn’t blame him. Tony doesn’t trust gift horses either, and this all seems a little too pat, but he’s willing to hear their pitch.

 

They adjourn into Landry’s office, which Tony is very familiar with at this point. O’Neill looks entirely too pleased with himself, but Tony is used to seeing that expression.

 

Landry doesn’t sit down behind his desk, and Tony understands the psychological implications; he doesn’t want to put any barriers between himself and Tony. They’re sitting down like friends, and that makes Tony just a little nervous.

 

“I didn’t get myself into trouble, did I?” Tony asks.

 

“The SGC is a joint task force operating under the IOA, but we’ve never had an internal peacekeeping force,” Landry begins. “We’ve always handled our own investigations. Hell, O’Neill even went undercover once.”

 

“More than once,” O’Neill says. “And there was that time Sam investigated that town full of Goa’uld.”

 

“Technically, the NID is supposed to investigate corruption and other problems inside the SGC, but the Trust came out of the NID, and no one actually believes they can do the job at this point,” Landry says. “We need an independent agency.”

 

Tony frowns. “So…what about the Air Force Office of Special Investigations?”

 

“We have our fair share of Marines, too,” O’Neill puts in. “Look, DiNozzo, we’ve been talking about setting up an investigative arm for a while. We were just divided on how to do it. Anybody investigating crime or espionage in the SGC will need to be read in to the program, so it needs to be a small, independent office. Someone with plenty of experience as an investigator, who has been read into the program, and who has the gene, would be perfect. We need someone who’s above reproach, who we know hasn’t been subverted.”

 

Tony blinks. “Me?”

 

“It’s technically a promotion,” Landry says. “It comes with the title of Assistant Director.”

 

“Wait a minute,” John objects. “Is this a dead end sort of promotion?”

 

O’Neill looks even more smug. “There’s nothing to say that the position of Director of Homeworld Security has to go to an ex-general.”

 

John leans back in his seat. “You’re grooming Tony to be your successor?”

 

“Well, I might consider you for the position, but it’s always good to have a back up plan,” O’Neill replies.

 

“Oh, hell no,” John says immediately. “I’d probably end up shooting someone.”

 

“Then DiNozzo it is,” O’Neill says genially. “I figure I’ll be ready to retire in a few years, and you’ll be seasoned enough to take over.”

 

Tony can actually feel the color drain from his face. “Okay, wait. What? You’re—you want me to take an assistant director position inside—what agency?”

 

“NCIS, but you’ll need to pull personnel from AFOSI, too,” Landry says. “Because we have so many Marines, and because we want to make sure this program is independent, it’s under NCIS.”

 

Tony blows out the breath. “Okay, what’s the catch?”

 

“There will be some travel involved,” O’Neill says blandly. “Occasional trips to Atlantis to make sure nothing is going wrong. Say, once a quarter.”

 

Tony buries his face in his hands. “Okay, but what happens if this blows up in my face? Am I going to be out on my ass? No offence, this sounds like a really great opportunity, but it seems a little too pat.”

 

“You don’t have to take the job, Tony,” O’Neill says gently. “And there’s no rush. You’ll have time to wrap things up in Atsugi. Vance has agreed to give you the next two weeks off. As far as NCIS is concerned, you broke open a terrorist cell, and have been working a highly classified operation. Expect a commendation, although the circumstances will be classified.”

 

Tony takes a deep breath. “And if I don’t take the job?”

 

“You go back to Atsugi with the commendation, and continue your excellent career trajectory,” Landry replies. “Maybe you get the Director’s chair, maybe you don’t. Maybe we draft you to sit in the chair if things go south, maybe we don’t need to. We offer the position to someone else. We know you’re a sure bet, but we aren’t sure about anybody else yet.”

 

“Two weeks?” Tony asks.

 

“Time enough to get through the holidays and make up your mind,” O’Neill says. “And if you manage a wedding ceremony, I expect an invitation.”

 

“I think we can do that,” Tony says. “DC legalized gay marriage last year.”

 

John glances at him. “Have you been keeping track?”

 

“Of course,” Tony replies. “You know, just in case.”

 

“Let me call someone to sort out transportation to DC,” Landry offers. “If that’s where you want to go.”

 

John glances at Tony. “Tamara can probably help us pull together a wedding on short notice.”

 

“I think she’d be pissed if we didn’t ask her,” Tony replies. “Thank you, General.”

 

Landry leaves the room, and John says, “Plus, Christmas. I haven’t been able to give Dave a heads up, but I can’t imagine they’d mind if we stayed with them.”

 

“We’ll have to go shopping,” Tony points out. “We’ll need gifts.”

 

“That can be handled,” John replies. “Is there anybody you want to invite? Your dad?”

 

“I have no idea where my dad is, and I don’t really want him there,” Tony says bluntly. “Because if he’s supportive—which is a big if—he’ll still make it all about him.”

 

John grimaces. “You’re absolutely right on that front. Also, he’s kind of a dick.”

 

“My old team liked him,” Tony mutters.

 

John snorts. “Your old team demonstrated an impressive lack of taste and good sense.”

 

“Abby likes him,” Tony says.

 

“Your father is a charming dick, but still a dick,” John points out. “I’ve known him for a long time, and I’m guessing he hasn’t changed a bit.”

 

Tony shakes his head. “Nope.”

 

“Gibbs and Abby, then?” John asks.

 

“That works,” Tony replies. “No way my team from Atsugi can make it, but I’m sure they’ll understand given how short your time here is.”

 

“And, of course, General O’Neill and his plus one,” John adds.

 

“Great!” O’Neill says. “Let me know the date and time, and I’ll be sure to be there.”

 

John blows out a breath. “Well, I guess I should probably call Dave and let him know we’ll be descending on him for a while.”

 

“Miles is going to be thrilled,” Tony points out.

 

John laughs. “Hell, I think this is the first time in decades I’ll be going home for Christmas.”

 

Tony smiles softly. “Yeah, me too, man.”

 

~~~~~

 

John can’t reach Dave right away, and since there’s a limited amount of time, he calls Tamara as she’s usually more available. “Hello?” she says cautiously.

 

John’s using one of the SGC’s phones, and he knows the caller ID would show “US Govt.” “Hey, Tamara,” John says. “I got some unexpected leave.”

 

“John!” she exclaims. “You’re not injured, are you?”

 

“No, I just had some business to take care of stateside and got two weeks of leave,” he replies. “But I have a small favor. Actually, two favors, and one of them might be a big one.”

 

“You’re welcome to stay with us while you’re in town,” Tamara says instantly. “Tony, too, if he’s able to come in from Japan.”

 

“Great,” John says. “He’s actually with me right now.”

 

“That’s wonderful!” Tamara replies. “Is that the other favor?”

 

“Actually, we were hoping you’d help us out with a small wedding while we’re both in the same place,” John says.

 

Tamara squeals. “Oh, my god! You’re getting married?”

 

“That’s the plan,” John replies. “Tony tells me that DC is issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples now.”

 

He hears her take a deep breath. “Small ceremony? We could do a family dinner afterward. I’d be happy to host. I know a few caterers who owe me favors. I’ll work on finding a judge who’ll do the ceremony. Traditional, or do you want to say your own vows?”

 

“I, uh, I don’t know.” John thinks about trying to come up with something to say, and says, “Traditional.”

 

Tamara lets out another excited noise. “Oh, this is going to be so great. Thank you so much for trusting me with this!”

 

“Nobody but you,” John replies. “Thanks, Tamara. You’re a lifesaver.”

 

“Wait, are you both going to be here for Christmas?” Tamara suddenly asks. “Both of you?”

 

“If that’s okay with you guys,” John replies.

 

“Okay? It’s more than okay!” Tamara gushes. “Oh, I’m so glad my parents decided to take that cruise this year instead of insisting on us being there.”

 

“Lucky break,” John replies. “Look, we’re working on getting a flight—”

 

Tony taps him on the shoulder. “We leave in two hours. We’ll be in DC around ten pm. I just messaged Gibbs, and he said he could pick us up, and we can stay with him tonight.”

 

“Did you catch that, Tamara?” John asks.

 

“It will give me time to make up the guest room,” she says firmly. “Have a safe flight, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”

 

“So, we’re all set?” Tony asks when John hangs up.

 

“Tamara is working on getting a judge and caterer,” John confirms. “We’ll probably have to set a date based on their availability.”

 

Tony shrugs. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere else during my two weeks off.”

 

“The flight?”

 

“Military transport leaves from Peterson in two hours,” Tony says. “We have two spots reserved.”

 

John nods. “Okay, great. Gibbs is meeting us?”

 

“I figured it might be more difficult for Tamara and Dave to get away,” Tony says. “And Gibbs offered me his spare room the last time I was in town, before I got kidnapped by O’Neill.”

 

John snorts. “Better than you being dead.”

 

“Well, yes, absolutely,” Tony replies. “No question. But Gibbs was a little concerned when he showed to back me up and there was no trace.”

 

“If the Trust had managed to hit you with a zat three times, you’d have left no trace,” John replies. “Only you wouldn’t have been around to call him later.”

 

“I’m not saying I’m _sorry_ O’Neill kidnapped me,” Tony protests. “I’m thrilled, actually. But it was still a kidnapping.”

 

John laughs. “Yeah, okay. You probably owe O’Neill a fruit basket or something.”

 

“He’s getting an invite to the wedding,” Tony protests. “That’s thanks enough. Especially because you know what kind of a spread Tamara will put out.”

 

John shrugs. “True enough.”

 

Their bags are still packed, and Landry instructs an airman to give them a lift to Peterson. Tony grumbles a bit under his breath about the transport, but he actually falls asleep on the flight, slumped slightly against John.

 

John closes his eyes, relaxing into the harness as much as he can. He hates not being on the stick, but he’ll deal with it. At least he’s got Tony with him.

 

It’s a few hours to DC, and John manages a bit of a nap as well. When they land in DC, Gibbs is waiting with his Challenger. “Tony,” he says, and pulls him in for a brief, hard hug. “You’re looking good.”

 

“Thanks. You too,” Tony replies.

 

“Hey, what’s this?” Gibbs asks, his sharp eyes catching their matching rings immediately. “Did you get hitched without giving me a heads up?”

 

“We’re having another ceremony here in DC,” Tony replies. “We’ve both got two weeks leave, and Tamara is setting something up. Just something small, you know, but I want you there.”

 

“Congratulations,” Gibbs says quietly, sincerely. “Sheppard.”

 

John takes his outstretched hand. “Thanks, Gibbs.”

 

“Come on,” Gibbs says. “You two hungry? We can stop somewhere for food.”

 

“Yeah, that would be good,” Tony says. “I could really go for a burger.”

 

John hums appreciatively. “Do you know how long it’s been since I had a decent burger?”

 

“Probably too long,” Gibbs guesses. “It’s doable. That okay with you, Tony?”

 

“Whatever John wants,” Tony replies.

 

“I know a place,” Gibbs replies.

 

John lets Tony take the front passenger seat to give them a chance to catch up. In the year since Tony left, it seems that McGee has shaped up into a decent senior field agent, taking the two new agents under his wing. Ziva decided to go back to Israel a few months prior, which seems to surprise Tony.

 

“I think whatever you said to her before you left really hit home,” Gibbs says. “And it probably didn’t help that I kept her on a short leash after you left. I did the same for McGee, but he stepped up. Ziva knew I lost a lot of trust in her.”

 

“Well, she lied to your face, Gibbs,” Tony replies. “I mean, she should have known better.”

 

“She did know better,” Gibbs replies. “That’s a big part of the problem. How’s Atsugi? Word is you’re up for a commendation.”

 

“That’s the word,” Tony agrees.

 

“Classified?”

 

“It was an interesting mission,” Tony replies cagily.

 

Gibbs snorts. “That’s usually code for wetworks.”

 

“You know me and my skills,” Tony says. “What do you think?”

 

“I think you probably did what you do best,” Gibbs replies.

 

The burger joint is a hole-in-the-wall that’s still open, and they grab burgers and fries that really hit the spot. It’s a relaxed meal, and John lets Tony do the heavy lifting on the conversation, although he keeps it light and focused on his time in Atsugi and his team there. John’s takeaway is that Tony works damn hard.

 

“I really need to check on my team,” Tony adds. “You think I could call them from MTAC?”

 

“Aren’t you on vacation?” Gibbs asks, clearly amused.

 

“Come on, Gibbs, I’ve been on ice for a couple of weeks,” Tony protests. “I need to make sure they’re okay.”

 

Gibbs grins. “Yeah, sure. It’s, what, 13 hours ahead? We could swing by the office on the way to the house if Sheppard doesn’t mind.”

 

“I don’t mind,” John replies. “I’m still in a completely different time zone, I think.”

 

Gibbs raises his eyebrows. “Would that be the same time zone Tony was in that’s so classified?”

 

“It was a corollary matter,” Tony says airily.

 

“You’re not going to tell me,” Gibbs says. “You’re enjoying this, DiNozzo.”

 

“So, so much,” Tony admits with a broad grin.

 

Gibbs laughs. “Fair enough. Let’s get to the office.”

 

When they reach the NCIS offices, Tony says, “I’d like you to stay with me if you don’t mind, John. That way, I can introduce you to my team.”

 

John is a little surprised, but certainly isn’t displeased by the request. “Sure.”

 

“If there’s anything you aren’t supposed to know about, I’ll ask you to step out,” Tony adds, “but your security clearance is as high as mine.”

 

“I think it’s probably the other way around,” John mutters.

 

Tony puts his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his heels as they wait for the folks in Atsugi to answer. A thin, dark haired man appears on the screen. “Tony! I thought you were on vacation.”

 

“I had to check in with you guys, make sure everything’s okay,” Tony replies.

 

“Off having adventures without us, sir?” he asks. “Because I heard you cracked that terrorist cell.”

 

“You know how much I hate to leave a task undone, Andrew,” Tony replies. “How are things going?”

 

“Well, I’d tell you we’re lost without you, but that would just make you look bad,” Andrew jokes. “You want a sitrep?”

 

“A quick rundown is fine,” Tony replies.

 

Andrew is clearly ex-military, judging by the way he offers his report, quickly and concisely. John recognizes the language he uses, too. By the time he’s halfway through, two others have joined him, and they wait for Andrew to finish before calling out greetings.

 

“I thought you weren’t allowed to go out without backup,” one of the women complains.

 

“I had Moore in my sights,” Tony explains. “And I called Gibbs right away.”

 

“Don’t be too hard on him,” the other woman says. “I would have wanted to know how someone manages to disappear into thin air as well. Did you figure it out, sir?”

 

Tony sighs. “I did, and it’s classified, I’m afraid.”

 

There’s some good-natured grumbling at that, and Andrew says, “We hear you’re off for two weeks.”

 

“My boyfriend got some unexpected leave, and we thought it was a good time to get hitched,” Tony says casually. “Everybody, meet Colonel John Sheppard. John, this is Andrew, Jody, and Kyra.”

 

John is amused at Kyra’s obvious once-over she gives him. “Damn, sir. Glad to see you put a ring on it.”

 

Gibbs chokes on his laughter, and John feels himself redden.

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Colonel,” Jody says, elbowing Kyra sharply. “Anyone who can put a smile on Agent DiNozzo’s face after two days of straight work with no leads is fine in my book.”

 

John inclines his head. “Thanks.”

 

“So, you are coming back after your vacation, right?” Andrew asks. “With a score like the one you just had, I’d be surprised if you didn’t get offered a promotion, or get scouted by another agency.”

 

Tony winces. “There’s been an offer. It would give me a chance to see John more often, so I’m considering it, but I haven’t made any decisions yet.”

 

“Do what you gotta do, sir,” Jody says quietly. “We’ll understand.”

 

“I’ll let you know, and I’ll have some time to wrap things up,” Tony promises. “If I do go that direction. I’m going to be in DC for the next two weeks, so I’ll stay in touch.”

 

“I’ll be disappointed if you do, sir,” Andrew replies with a grin. “You’ll be on your honeymoon.”

 

“Good point,” Tony replies. “You can call me if you need me, though.”

 

“That would be admitting defeat,” Kyra says. “Many felicitations on your happy union!”

 

There are echoes all around, and then the call ends.

 

“You have a good team,” Gibbs says.

 

“They’re pretty great,” Tony agrees.

 

“Job offer?” Gibbs prods.

 

“Assistant director position in a classified mission,” Tony admits. “And I could see John more often.”

 

Gibbs nods. “Tough call, but Tony? I think you know my biggest regret.”

 

Tony huffs out a breath. “Yeah, I think I do.”

 

Later, when they’re ensconced in Gibbs’ guest room, curled together, John murmurs, “Gibbs’ biggest regret?”

 

“This doesn’t go any further,” Tony warns him.

 

“Of course.”

 

“Gibbs was a Marine sniper, and he was deployed when his wife witnessed a murder,” Tony replies softly. “She was under NCIS—well, NIS—protection when she was murdered, along with their daughter.”

 

John winces. “So, lost time?”

 

“Lost time,” Tony agrees.

 

John takes a deep breath. “The difference here is that we both have careers that we’re good at and that we love, and we both go into danger regularly. Obviously, I want to spend as much time with you as possible, but if you don’t want to take this AD position, don’t take it, Tony.”

 

“I don’t know what I want,” Tony replies. “But I’ll admit to some concern about going down this rabbit hole. Granted, I don’t have a lot of family to hide things from, but I suspect that if I make this leap, there’s no going back.”

 

“Rabbit hole is right,” John agrees. “That’s why I want you to be sure that this is something you want, and not something you’re doing for me. You’ve got a good thing going in Atsugi.”

 

“Am I even qualified to take a position like O’Neill’s?” Tony whispers. “I know he’s talking about me having time to adjust, but that’s a lot of adjusting, and I’m not sure I want to be a director of anything. I’m an investigator.”

 

“I think you could do anything you put your mind to,” John replies. “But you don’t _need_ to do any of that. You could just clean up the Southwest Asia theater, and we’ll see each other as much as we can.”

 

“I miss our little beach,” Tony murmurs. “Maybe it’s worth taking the job just to have a chance to be back there with you again.”

 

He drifts off after that, and John doesn’t know what to think. He actually thinks that Tony would do a remarkable job in the AD position, creating his own investigative team. He could do that for a few years, and he’d know the SGC inside and out. He’d have contacts and friends.

 

And when O’Neill steps down, and they need a new director, Tony would be placed admirably. It wasn’t a sure thing, and Tony could always stay in the AD position, but he could take the director’s chair, too.

 

But John knows the SGC inside and out, and he’s seen a lot of men and women go through it, and not come out the other side.

 

He doesn’t want Tony to take this job just for him. He wants Tony to think about it, about what he really wants from his career, and then to make the best choice for him.

 

Gibbs is kind enough to give them a ride to Dave’s the next morning, but declines an invitation to join them for Christmas. “I’m working that day. Saves someone who has a family from having to work.”

 

John can see the flash of guilt cross Tony’s face, and then he glances back towards John in the backseat. John doesn’t have a problem reading the procession of emotions—guilt that he isn’t working, a sudden urge to volunteer, then the realization he _does_ have a family, and he’s one of those whose place Gibbs is taking.

 

To be honest, John’s still a little stunned that he’ll have somewhere to go for the holidays.

 

“Call and let me know about the wedding,” Gibbs says. “I’ll make sure your invitees can make it there.”

 

“Thanks, Gibbs,” Tony replies, and they grab their bags from the trunk.

 

The front door flies open and Miles comes running out just as Gibbs is driving away, taller and more coltish since the last time John saw him. “Uncle John! Uncle Tony!”

 

John accepts his flying leap and swings him around. “Hey, there, buddy!”

 

“I missed you!” Miles shouts. “Uncle Tony!”

 

Tony snags the boy from John’s arms and tosses him into the air. “Have you been good for your mom and dad?”

 

“Yes!” Miles replies. “Can we go flying again, Uncle John?”

 

“Well, let’s see what I can do,” John replies. “You’ll have to get permission from your parents, though.”

 

Tamara steps out of the house with Sarah on her hip. The little girl is a couple of years old at this point, and shy. She hides her face in Tamara’s shoulder even as Tamara gives them both a hug.

 

“Oh, it’s so good to see you both!” she says. “And congratulations! Again, I know. But I’m just so excited for you guys!”

 

“We’re pretty excited, too,” Tony replies.

 

“You already got your rings,” Tamara says, and grabs John’s hand to get a better look. “They’re just perfect. Suits you both.”

 

“They were a gift from a friend of mine who knows someone who makes jewelry,” John explains.

 

“Come in, come in,” Tamara says, looking down the road where Gibbs has already left. “Did he not want to stay?”

 

“He needed to get to work,” Tony says.

 

“Well, come in, come in,” Tamara replies. “Your room is all ready. Did you guys eat breakfast?”

 

And maybe John’s not used to being welcomed back into the bosom of his family, but he’s certainly enjoying the hell out of it.

 

~~~~~

 

They don’t get a chance to talk until after lunch, when both the kids have gone down for a nap. Hell, Tony wouldn’t mind napping, because a morning spent at Miles’ beck and call—and at Sarah’s, once she warmed up—has exhausted him.

 

“I’d pay to bottle that energy,” John says with feeling.

 

Tamara laughs. “”Wouldn’t we all? He was even more wound up than usual today, though. He couldn’t stop talking about his uncles visiting after we told him you’d be here for Christmas. Now, you two said two weeks, right?”

 

“Two weeks,” Tony agrees. “And I have no idea what happens after that, but I’ll need to head back to Atsugi for a bit at least.”

 

“And I’ll need to report to my commanding officer,” John adds.

 

Tamara nods determinedly. “Then we’ll want to have the wedding sooner, rather than later, to give you two a little time for the honeymoon. How does the day after Christmas sound? It’s a Monday, but you aren’t inviting that many people, and if we do it at the end of the day, that may make it easier for people to attend and then join you for dinner afterward.”

 

“Are we going to be able to get a judge the day after Christmas?” John asks.

 

“I already called one who owes Dave a favor,” Tamara says airily. “He said he was in town and was happy to perform the marriage ceremony.”

 

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Does he know it’s a same-sex ceremony?”

 

“I told him,” Tamara assures them. “I didn’t want to risk him refusing to do it, but he’s a good guy. I was pretty sure he wouldn’t have a problem with it, and he didn’t. I have a caterer who owes me a favor, so we can do the dinner here afterward. I’m assuming you’ll both need tuxes.”

 

“I have a suit,” Tony offers.

 

John grimaces. “I don’t.”

 

“We’ll get it taken care of,” Tamara says easily.

 

Tony smiles. “Is that your answer to everything?”

 

“It’s not everyday your brother-in-law gets married after that travesty of a law gets repealed,” Tamara replies with a bright smile. “It’s a banner day.”

 

“Yeah, okay,” John says. “We will happily put you in charge.”

 

Tamara’s eyes twinkle. “It’s so cute that you didn’t realize I’m already in charge.”

 

“He’s always cute,” Tony says.

 

“You’re both adorable,” she pronounces. “Now, I have a few arrangements to make. I suggest you two start making phone calls to those you want to be there, and then get me that list. I can make sure they squeeze in a tux fitting tomorrow, and we’ll pick them up early on the 26th.”

 

“We put ourselves in your very capable hands,” Tony says grandly.

 

John laughs, but he’s happy to let Tamara take the reins. “Other than you and Dave, and the kids, just General O’Neill and his plus one for me. I’ll give him a call to let him know.”

 

“Gibbs, Abby, and McGee for me,” Tony says.

 

“No family?” Tamara asks.

 

“They are family,” Tony replies quietly. “But no, no other family I’d care to be there.”

 

Tamara’s expression softens. “Well, you’ll have all the family you need present.”

 

Tony presses a kiss to her cheek. “Thank you. I’ll go make those calls.”

 

He leaves and Tamara glances at John. “Did I put my foot in it?”

 

“Senior has never been great at prioritizing Tony’s needs,” John explains. “He disowned Tony when he was 12, and he tends to hog the spotlight.”

 

“So, not the ideal wedding guest,” Tamara says with a sad smile.

 

“A waste of food and alcohol,” John agrees. “Besides, Tony really doesn’t want him there, and that’s all I need to know.”

 

Tamara nods. “Like I told Tony, his family will be here. That’s all that matters.”

 

“Gibbs, Abby, and McGee are all on board,” Tony says when John slips inside their bedroom. “Is it weird that I don’t want my dad there?”

 

“No one would ask that question if they really knew your dad,” John says dryly. “Trust me, Tony.”

 

“Other people like him.”

 

“Other people get taken in by conmen all the time,” John replies. “It’s our wedding, and I don’t want him there either. And even if I did, what you want is more important.”

 

Tony smiles. “Thanks for having my back.”

 

John wiggles the fingers on his left hand. “I think that’s what this ring means. Do you mind if I use your phone to call O’Neill?”

 

Tony hands him the cell phone and stretches out on the bed. In the time it takes John to call O’Neill and leave a message, Tony’s asleep, and John decides that a nap is definitely in order.

 

When he wakes up an hour or so later, Tony is awake and watching him with a smile on his face. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” John replies with what’s probably a goofy smile. “You okay?”

 

“I’m great,” Tony says. “You?”

 

In lieu of a response, John leans in closer for a kiss, and they make out for long, lazy minutes with no intention of taking it to the next level.

 

Good thing, too, because the door flies open and Miles bursts in. “Uncle John! It’s dinner time!”

 

“Right, so, locked doors are our friend,” Tony mutters on a laugh.

 

“Miles, did your mom say anything about knocking?” John asks patiently.

 

Miles immediately appears contrite. “Sorry, Uncle John.”

 

“Just remember for next time,” John replies, reaching out to ruffle Miles’ hair. “Tell your mom we’ll be there in a sec, okay?”

 

They straighten clothing with sheepish smiles, and head out to join the others for dinner. Dave greets them both warmly. “Congratulations to you both. Glad to see you’re healthy, John.”

 

“It’s nice to _be_ healthy,” John replies. “Thanks for putting us up, Dave.”

 

“Are you kidding?” Dave asks. “It’s great to have you both here for Christmas. It’s been, what, twenty years?”

 

“At least that,” John admits.

 

Dave claps Tony on the shoulder. “It’s good to have both of you here. Welcome.”

 

“Merry Christmas,” Tony replies.

 

Dinner is as good as John has come to expect, and Miles and Sarah chatter all the way through the meal, reenergized by their naps. John foresees a lot of time spent with Miles in the next few days, and while he’s looking forward to it, he’s also very grateful that they’re going on their honeymoon in a few days.

 

He catches Tony’s eye, and his rueful smile suggests he’s thinking much the same thing.

 

~~~~~

 

Tony hasn’t spent the holidays with anything like a family since Baltimore, and he’s never spent the holidays with children. It’s fun, and somewhat exhausting, and Tony is going to be really happy to go off somewhere alone with John.

 

He likes Dave and his family, and the kids are cute, but Tony is used to having a space to retreat to at the end of the day.

 

At least the wedding plans are moving right along, pushed forward by Tamara’s boundless energy and enthusiasm. Tony figures that’s probably where Miles gets it from.

 

On Christmas Eve, John manages to call in a few favors and rents a helicopter as a gift to Miles—who enjoys the chopper more than the plane, since he gets to wear a headset.

 

John once again cements his position as favorite uncle, and Tony apparently gets included in that based on the enthusiastic hug he gets immediately afterward.

 

The Sheppards are apparently the sort of family that attends church on Christmas Eve, and he and John go along in the name of family time. They’re leaving in a couple of days and might not see them again any time soon, and Tony can tell what this time is doing for John.

 

John finally has acceptance from his family—wholehearted acceptance—and he’s enjoying every second. Tony can’t begrudge him that.

 

Christmas morning is chaotic with a couple of kids, and Tony finds their enthusiasm contagious. He’s not really interested in having kids of his own, but he doesn’t mind borrowing them.

 

If he’s being honest, it’s one of the better Christmases he’s had, mostly because he’s with John, and John is happy.

 

The day of the wedding dawns clear and cold. Dave takes them out to lunch, and they pick up their tuxes on the way back to the house. He and John get ready in their room, and Tony says, “I’m going to take the job.”

 

John glances at him. “Tony, you don’t have to do that. You have a great team in Atsugi.”

 

“I know,” Tony says immediately. “And it might be the wrong call, and maybe I wind up in a dead end job, but I don’t want to go a year without seeing you again.”

 

John clears his throat. “Tony—”

 

“We both have jobs we love, John,” Tony says. “And you have a city you love that needs you. You can’t leave, but I can do a job I love _and_ see you more often. It’s not a hard decision.”

 

John reaches for him. “I love you.”

 

“I know,” Tony replies. “And I will do everything I can to spend as much time with you as possible.”

 

If there’s one thing that Tony knows for certain, it’s that John Sheppard is worth rearranging his life for.

 

John has a look on his face, like that of a man about to fling himself off a cliff. “If you asked me, I’d give up Atlantis for you.”

 

“And I’d never ask,” Tony replies. “I’m not going to let you sacrifice yourself—and before you say it, it was not a sacrifice.”

 

John presses his forehead to Tony’s in a gesture Tony thinks he probably learned from Teyla. “Okay,” he says quietly. “Thank you.”

 

“You need to finish your tie,” Tony replies.

 

“Would you do the honors?” John asks.

 

Tony smiles. “I was always better at this than you.”

 

“More practice,” John replies.

 

Tony finishes John’s tie and then his own, and they head downstairs. Miles is absolutely adorable in a suit and tie, and Sarah is wearing a frilly dress and doesn’t look too happy about it.

 

“You both look wonderful,” Tamara says. She has boutonnieres for both of them, which she pins adroitly. “The final touch.”

 

“Thanks so much for doing this,” John says.

 

“Don’t,” she insists. “It’s my pleasure.”

 

They arrive at the courthouse just before five, when the judge has agreed to meet them, and Tony is both surprised and relieved to see Gibbs, Abby, and McGee there already. He hadn’t really expected them to show up, had expected to get a call from Gibbs saying they had a case, but here they are.

 

“Tony, Tony, Tony!” Abby exclaims, running towards him in her platform boots. “It’s been forever!” She flings her arms around Tony’s neck. “It’s like you dropped off the face of the planet.”

 

Tony makes a face at John over Abby’s shoulder at the irony of that statement, and says, “There was a job, and I didn’t have access to my email for a bit. I’m fine, though.”

 

“And getting married!” Abby says. “John! You’re looking a lot better than the last time I saw you.”

 

“I’m good,” John replies. “And this is technically our third time getting married.”

 

“But we saved the best for last,” Tony adds quickly. “Obviously.”

 

“Obviously,” Abby agrees.

 

McGee steps forward, possibly to defuse the situation. “Tony, thanks for inviting me, especially after—”

 

“Water under the bridge, McGoo,” Tony says quickly. “Gibbs says you’re quite the SFA now.”

 

“I learned from the best,” McGee says.

 

“Damn straight,” Tony agrees.

 

Gibbs gives him a hug next. “Proud of you, Tony.”

 

“The judge is waiting for us,” Tamara says. “Not to rush things.”

 

John slips his ring off and hands it to Miles. “Can you hang on to that for me until the judge asks for it?”

 

Miles nods, and Tony hands him his ring. “Don’t worry about telling them apart. They’re the same size.”

 

They head into the chambers, and the judge quickly introduces himself as “Bob Nivens, and please, call me Bob,” and then asks for the participants and witnesses to step forward. John already talked to Dave about standing up with him, and Tony looks to Gibbs, who steps forward immediately.

 

Tony misses that unspoken communication, and he’s glad for it now. The ceremony is nearly identical to the one Woolsey performed on Atlantis, and Tony’s glad for that, too, knowing that neither his family nor John’s is going to miss out on anything.

 

Miles hands the rings over at the appropriate time, he and John say “I do,” the judge pronounces them married, and they kiss.

 

As far as Tony is concerned, it’s at least a little performative—he considers the “real” wedding to be the spontaneous proposal from John and the exchange of rings on the east pier. But he also knows that it’s important to John and his family—and Tony and _his_ family—to be present.

 

Not to mention that a marriage on Atlantis isn’t going to be recognized.

 

“You’re welcome to join us, of course,” Dave says to Bob after the marriage license is signed.

 

Bob smiles. “I appreciate the invitation, but my wife is making dinner tonight, and performing a marriage ceremony always reminds me of how lucky I am. I’ve been married for nearly forty years, and I love her more today than I did when we first married. I hope you two will be just as happy.”

 

Tony shakes his hand. “Thank you, your honor.”

 

“Bob, please,” he replies.

 

Tony shrugs. “I’m a federal agent. Professional courtesy.”

 

“Thank you, Bob,” John says. “We really appreciate you doing this on short notice. We didn’t have a lot of time, or warning before I got leave.”

 

“I was in the Army, son,” Bob says warmly. “I remember how that works.”

 

“Still, thanks,” John says.

 

“Congratulations,” Bob replies. “And Miles, you did an excellent job with the rings.”

 

Miles’ chest puffs out, and Tony can see all of the adults in the room stifle laughter. He figures this is what it’s like to have family.

 

~~~~~

 

John glances around the room, a little surprised at just how content he is. Tony is chatting with Gibbs with a drink in hand, and John overhears him say, “It’s classified, but it means I can spend more time here, and see John a few times a year.”

 

“Hey,” Dave says, putting an arm around John’s shoulders. “I feel as your best man I should probably give a toast.”

 

John nods. “Okay, thanks.”

 

“Except I don’t actually know how you guys got together,” Dave points out. “We’ve never talked about it.”

 

John hesitates. “Probably because there’s not actually much to tell. Tony saved me from a gay bashing when I was in town.”

 

“When you were bruised.”

 

“Yeah,” John says. “And then he let me sleep on his couch, and we hung out…I don’t know. Actually, can I do a toast? After you?”

 

“Yeah, of course,” Dave replies. “It’s your party, John. Whatever you want to do.”

 

John doesn’t really like public speaking that much, and he’s not comfortable talking about his feelings, but Tony’s team is here, and he feels the need to make something clear.

 

“I’d like to,” John says. “Thanks.”

 

Dave pulls him close. “To be honest, John, I wasn’t sure you’d keep your promise to Miles, or that you wouldn’t just disappear again. I think Tony might have something to do with that.”

 

“Yeah,” John admits. “He encouraged me to try.”

 

“We owe Tony a lot,” Dave replies. He pats John on the shoulder. “I’m glad to have my brother back again.”

 

John smiles. “Yeah. Me, too.”

 

“Dinner is served!” Tamara calls. “Come eat, everybody.”

 

They’d let Tamara choose the menu, and John has to hand it to her. The prime rib is perfectly cooked, along with salad, rolls, mashed potatoes, and all the fixings. There are plenty of libations, and a special meal for the kids.

 

Once everybody has finished eating, but before dessert, Dave stands up. “As the best man for one of the grooms, and as John’s brother, I asked if I could give a toast. I have to admit that until a couple of years ago, I didn’t know John well. He came back into our lives about the same time Tony did. Right away, I knew they were together, even though I knew they couldn’t be out. Tony fit right back into our family the way he did when we were kids, and he checked in on us. I knew—or at least I hoped—that this day would come, that they could be public the way Tamara and I are public. I hoped that we could officially welcome Tony into our family, especially considering that he gave me back my brother. I’m so glad that day has finally come. To John and Tony.”

 

Everybody echoes Dave, and before Gibbs can stand up—not that John knows he will, he gets to his feet. “I asked Dave if I could give the toast after him because I realized that not everybody knows how Tony and I got together. That’s the problem when you’re hiding. No one knows your story, because you can’t risk telling it.”

 

He clears his throat. “When I was sixteen, my dad caught us kissing, and Tony looked him in the eye and told him that he’d dared me to do it to prove we weren’t gay. And he did it with such panache that my dad had no choice but to believe him. He saved my life again when he chased off some gay-bashers and lent me his couch when I was here a couple of years ago, and I couldn’t help but love him.

 

“Tony is the guy who lays it on the line for the people he loves.” John swallows. “He’s the guy who doesn’t care about personal sacrifice as long as the person he cares about is safe. He gave me back something I thought I’d lost forever. I never thought I’d be grateful to get beat up in an alley, but I am.”

 

He raises his glass in a silent toast, and everyone there follows.

 

“I guess that’s my cue,” Gibbs says, getting to his feet. “And I don’t have much to say, other than I knew Tony and John were the real deal when Sheppard opened Tony’s door in his bare feet, and Tony warned me off. Since Tony never invited anybody to share his space before, I figured it was love. I hope you both are very happy together.”

 

That’s…almost sweet, John thinks, and Tamara stands. “Well, I’m sure we can all join together wishing them well while we eat cake. John, Tony, you want to do the honors?”

 

The cake is more elaborate than a grocery store sheet cake, but not by much. It’s two-tiered, simple, and really perfect.

 

Tony offers the knife to John, hilt first, and John takes it. Tony puts his hand over John’s, and Tony leans in close to whisper in his ear, “That was pretty much the nicest thing anybody has ever said about me. Thanks.”

 

“Nothing but the truth,” John replies.

 

Tony kisses him softly. “The fact that you see me that way makes me love you even more.”

 

John knows Tony doesn’t see himself the same way John does, but John can’t help but think the SGC is going to be better for Tony being there. Tony is going to be great, and that’s the main reason John hadn’t fought Tony’s decision harder.

 

And one of these days, John will have the chance to make the sacrifice, because Tony’s worth it.


End file.
